From what I understand many phones don't actually turn off when you turn them off, you need to remove the battery.
Goodness, the things I learn on writing forums. (Off to see if wrapping the phone in aluminum foil will actually block the signals.)
TMW your friend picks “Bat Out of Hell” on karaoke night and you just have to jump in with her, even though you know your throat is going to feel like raw meatloaf by the end (Worth it, though!)
TMW you realize that even though you have no interest whatsoever in participating in a transcendental moment, and in fact would rather not, you are nonetheless barreling closer toward one every day, every hour, every minute.
Funny how that happens. But it does. Keep in mind that not everyone has that option -- or has had the privilege of working in a job one likes.
Sigh. Do y'all realize how tiresome it is to be chided as if I am a spoiled child? I began working when I was a teenager and in the intervening 50+ years have had unpleasant jobs, unpleasant employers, unpleasant coworkers, and absolutely no options about whether or not to continue working. Once I retire from this job, I will only have three part time jobs left instead of the five I had as of last February. Now, may I happily anticipate retiring from one of them as I approach 70 without little reminders of how privileged I am?
If I came across as chiding, I apologize. I was trying to commiserate. Happy for you. As I was for me.
Well, Graham, then why add that final sentence? It's like telling a new bride or new mother, "Congratulations, but keep in mind there are dozens of women who will never experience this moment." Okay, enough of that. Apology accepted, and it's all wind across the prairie now.
TMW your boss says "hey, can I call you in about five minutes? I need to talk to you." Five-ish minutes of pure "what have I done wrong oh hell" later, turns out I'm being promoted.
TMW you decide to take a short cut off the beaten path and plow through tall weeds, only to find your feet entangled in some sort of vine and the ground is kind of soft and suddenly you find yourself falling in slow motion and end up on your back with your head to the downhill side, and the daypack -- with its two water bottles you are carrying mostly for training purposes -- holds you down, and you're kind of like a tortoise on its back and your collapsible trekking pole collapses as you struggle to get up and you wonder if this is how it ends, and you recall that "pride goeth before a fall" and decide that phrase was never more apt, and finally you get to your feet and struggle on to the top of the hill. That moment.
TMW, you realize you have taken a left at Albuquerque, from your outline, and have to completely redo the outline to fit where the story has taken you.
If I had a crisp new dollar bill for every time I've done this, I could take us all downtown for dinner.
Did that once, except it was a right. Taking a trip to southwestern Colorado from Texas. Wound up on top of Sandia Peak wondering "WTF?"
TMW you are solicited to open a crime scene clean-up franchise from some random people in a hotel hot tub in Orlando Florida. Apparently there's a conference in our hotel for a massive franchise company that controls multiple concepts. To my left were the crime scene cleanup guys. To my right, the mosquito mitigation spray guys. They all made some good points. The world is full of mosquitos that need killing and crime scenes that need cleaning. Not sure how many murders, suicides, and messy overdoses happen in the US every year, but it's got to be a lot.
