Lol, but of course! Let's see, where to begin? Ah, of course... Once upon a time, there was a talented, handsome, and just generally amazing ant. This ant was a writer, or at least fancied himself one even though he hadn't done much writing lately, and he had just settled in to start a long-overdue writing session when his very best friend sent him an ant-message. "Hey, you up for an adventure?" the message said. The ant looked at his laptop and his steaming hot cup of tea, all set up for writing, and he thought about how productive he was about to be, all the beautiful sentences and paragraphs he was going to bring into being. Then his mandibles twitched in a wicked grin. "You know it," he messaged back. And so began an epic adventure, for that night Taylor Swift was performing her third sold-out show in a row at the Eagles' stadium in South Philadelphia. Neither Ant nor his friend were really fans of hers (though they kind of liked a few songs), but word had spread far and wide that there was a party for the ages just outside, no tickets necessary, and if there's anything an ant enjoys, it's a party - especially a free one. Ant and friend grabbed some hard seltzer (for they had consumed much beer the night before and needed a change) and a chair and blanket, and together they rode the train down to the stadium, where they were met with a truly amazing sight. Not only were there 67,000 screaming fans inside the show proper, but the parking lot itself was a sea of Swifties! As far as the eye could see, there were middle-class white women between the ages of 10 to 35 (along with the occasional parent, boyfriend, or gay best friend) dressed in sparkly costumes, dancing and singing at the top of their lungs - up to 20,000, of them by some reports, and at least 5,000 in the corner near the train station. Ant and his friend burst out into joyful laughter. They had found The Party, as they always did, and life was good. The Swifties were a friendly bunch, and when they learned that Ant and his friend were new to the music of Taylor the beloved, they welcomed them and gave them totally adorable handmade friendship bracelets. The evening was cloudy and a bit chilly, but friendship and dancing (and booze) kept everyone warm. Ant laughed and preened when a group of girls who were waaaaay too young for him screamed that they loved his dance moves, and his friend grinned and rolled her eyes. Everyone sang "Shake it Off" and a bunch of other hits that Ant didn't know and screamed "Fuck the patriarchy!" so loud that the earth trembled, and the happy Girl Power vibes were tremendous. Both Ant and his bestie were converted to the Cult of Taylor, at least for a few hours. Eventually, though, the night grew late, and when other people started heading for the train station to beat the crowd, so did Ant and his friend, for they did both have work in the morning. But they had loved every sparkly moment they had spent in the land of the Swifties, and they were all smiles as they rode back to their respective apartments. For they knew that the secret to the good life is this: always be up for an adventure.
... And when it was all over, the ant wrote a story about the adventure. And probably had that cup of tea too. Nothing was lost, and much fun was had by all, except for the patriarchy, which is reportedly still looking for someone to oppress.
That very moment; clear and solid; when you realize that you are going to spend the rest of your life alone.
Did you have it in your hand and then put it down to grab something. I did that with the TV remote once.
TMW when you're halfway though adding up the word count and you accidentally close the calculator tab...
If your word processor doesn't have that function, you could copy the text to one that does, like google docs or something. Would be a bit less laborious.
But not as exciting. Back in the early dark ages of computerized data entry, before automatic saves, I was sitting at a screen, doing word processing, while on the other side of the table sat our agency treasurer, doing her books. I stretched out my legs and hit the power switch. After a moment of stunned silence from the other side of the table, the treasurer asked, "What the [expletive deleted] did you do?" All her work was gone. Pfft.
I have all the chapters in separate Google Docs, I just had to look at the word count for each chapter and add them up I was about halfway through when I deleted the tab and had to start over again, lol
TMW you go over the suggestions made by your editor and finally decide on the changes..... and leave them on your work computer. edits are due tomorrow, and I'm out of town until monday (i can still make the changes... but i'd had my thought process all written out and wanted to go over them one last time to make sure my thoughts were sound...)
TMW you realize there is nothing you can buy that will make you happy -- and you find that liberating and empowering.
TMW grand-dad is deep into a close Dallas Cowboys game, and toddler grand-son is pestering him for the remote, and he hands it to him just before the final field goal attempt with no time left in the game! Happened to my father...
TMW: one goes downstairs to turn on the lights in the children's area only to discover that some irresponsible child has allowed its parent to take apart half a dozen jigsaw puzzles without reassembling them. The following moment: when one realizes some of the loose pieces have fallen behind the bookcase which must be unloaded of books before it is light enough to move. The moment after that: when one gets everything upstairs to one's office ands remembers that putting together jigsaw puzzles is fun and now part of the work day must be devoted to fun. That moment when: one realizes two pieces from two different puzzles are missing. Stay tuned for that moment when one either finds the pieces or realizes they are gone forever.
In the end that's what we're all doing anyway. Reminds me of an old Archie Bunker ("All in the Family" sitcom), while standing in the bar bathroom: "You don't buy beer, you rent it."
