I have this dream.
(Once you read the nonsense below, you’ll understand why I found it disrespectful to quote Dr. Martin Luther King directly.)
I’ll be stuck on the on-ramp, the one that takes me south. I’ll be sitting on the overpass above the fancy shopping center waiting to merge, like I am every day. It will be an especially congested day, and I’ll be waiting to merge for 17 minutes instead of the usual 13. I’ll be struggling to stay awake.
And then “Call Me Maybe” will come on. A shot of caffeine directly to my veins.
I’ll look over at the driver next to me. She’ll hear it, too. We will look at each other as if to say are you thinking what I’m thinking? I’ll look in front of me, and behind me. All of the drivers, stuck on this on-ramp, will be nodding in support. They will all know this has to happen.
In unison, our windows will roll down.
And we’ll all start singing.
Those of us with sunroofs will break into the choreographed dance that we all just happen to know.
Suddenly, traffic will be fun.
A lot of people have asked me how Ike is adapting to our move. In fact, more people have asked me about Ike than have asked me how Y is adapting to having a real life job where he works 14.5 hour days and is partially responsible for people’s lives.
But I digress. Back to the interesting member of my family.
Ike’s biggest challenge has been finding that perfect spot on our new couch. Please keep him in your thoughts as he continues on his journey.
The other thing Ike’s been getting used to is a smaller yard. The other day he ran into our fence while chasing a ball. I’ll admit, I teared up when he yelped in pain as his snout scraped the wood.
I’ll also admit that I laugh every.single.time the cut on his snout causes him to sneeze eight times in a row.
Recently I was standing in Target, livid because my phone was taking a whole 30 seconds to take and send the above photo. Our friends back in Louisiana needed to know immediately that our neighborhood Target sold this pastry. It’s a long story. Anyway, I was pissed.
But then it hit me that not so long ago — in my relatively short lifetime, in fact — if I wanted to send someone a picture of something, I would not only have to wind up my disposable camera and not only have to hold down that button and listen to the high pitched whine as the flash warmed up and not only drive to my local 1 hour photo and wait one hour for my pictures (doubles, please!) to be developed… but then I would have to put the picture in the mail and wait 2-4 days for it to be delivered. Was I really getting angry because my phone was so slow that it couldn’t do this same task in less than 20 seconds?
That really puts things in perspective, right?
My new lease on life lasted about 15 seconds, until I noticed that my f@!#king picture still hadn’t sent. The moral of this story is that I need a new iPhone.
I hope you learned something here today.