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Hi. I'm trying to think of another description to put here. Any ideas? I'll try again at 420.

Monday, November 02, 2009

It seems as though the clock...

...on this computer is finally correct. I guess it'll screw itself up sometime next spring but for now, I'll enjoy the convenient little time keeper in the corner and it'll actually tell me the truth for a change. I don't have to do any math, I don't have to consider what time zone I'm in and by the time I get used to this method of time keeping, it'll be wrong again.

I'm sure there's a way to fix that sucker but when I sit at my computer, I usually have something else on my mind that takes precedence over the clock thing. Instead, I sit here for 6 months of the year chronologically challenged and wishing that there was a clock around here with the correct time on it. I sometimes think that I should offer myself as the poster child for procrastination but once again, there's always something more pressing to take up my time.

You may ask why I don't just stop what I'm doing and fix the stupid thing. Well, there's a reason for that. Since I moved to the West Coast, I always worry about the people who like to read this crap in the morning. I don't want to screw up their evening by making them wonder if I ever did get around to writing something and I certainly don't want to mess up my own evening worrying about people I've never met so I'm always in a hurry when I sit down to write and with my daughter around, I notice how much time I spend writing. Sitting alone in my own place lends itself to writing more so than having a kid around seems to.

See? I'm digressing again and digressing is really just written procrastination, don't you think?

I feel the need to do it again so here goes. My daughter keeps BBC on the television so much that she's beginning to get a British accent. I'm not really sure how to change the channel without alerting her to my actions. She keeps that remote control so close to her that I can't really do it discreetly, even if I wait for her to fall asleep. It's not like I can do anything without the remote...if I tried I might end up pushing a button that can't be un-pushed without the remote. Then I'd have to come right out and tell her, "I've screwed up the TV, I need the remote."

That would start an argument over "Why didn't you just get the remote in the first place?!"...after all, "What you did just doesn't make sense!" I never claimed that I made sense and I never said that I wasn't a flake. As a matter of fact, I've colored my hair blonde as a warning. If she assumes that I'm brighter than your average blonde, it's on her.

You know that look that you get when you get caught doing something incredibly stupid like eating a co-worker's lunch, locking the car keys in your trunk or asking a Pet-Mart associate where the peanut butter is? Well, I seem to be getting that look often and I don't think it's fair. I could take her into MY house and get annoyed every time she breaks one of MY arbitrary rules but it just wouldn't occur to me. Even if I wanted to take the time and energy to do that, I'd just procrastinate until I forgot about it and nothing would come of it so I don't even bother pondering over such minor transgressions.

I may notice a person who does something that annoys me, but unless they keep on doing it in front of me, I won't go out of my way to bitch at them. It would be like trying to reason with a drunken person walking down the street...it's not worth the time so I just keep walking to my destination. My daughter would stop and take the time to bitch at the drunk and there you have the difference between her and I.

The difference between a drunk and myself would be that I remember all the stupid stuff my kid tells me. Unfortunately, I never seem to remember to avoid irritating her. On Halloween she got mad at me for eating a candy bar. If eating a candy bar on Halloween can get you in trouble, who's gonna worry about which kitchen sponge is for the pet's dishes and which one is for people dishes?

And one more thing...I'm not nice because I don't know HOW to be a bitch...I can do that quite well. I simply CHOOSE not to.

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