Whatever happened to Adele? I mean, one day we were rolling with her in the deep, and then she had a baby, and then something happened to her throat, and then Sam Smith seemed to take her place and then something happened to his throat, so where is Adele? I need some more Adele music. And Sam Smith, too, for that matter.
Is there a better song than Brain Wilson’s “God Only Knows?’ Maybe God is the only one who can answer that question. The lyrics are so beautiful and so timeless.
I’ve said this before but I can’t help repeating myself: Does EVERYONE have to ask you to take a survey? Kohl’s wastes more paper just by stapling that tiny note to the receipt to ask you to go on-line to take their survey. I mailed something from the post office and they wanted me to take a survey. The lab that does my blood work asked me to go on-line and fill one out, and the hospital where I had minor surgery recently sent me a written questionnaire via US mail. I wonder if the post office asked them to fill out a survey.
You know, Medicare, if I could figure how HOW to enroll on your website “from the comfort of my home or office,” I would do that rather than listen to 30 minutes of bad music and your explanations that you serve 50 million people – all of whom are on line ahead of my call today. By the way, when I finally spoke to a live human being at SS even he asked me to stay on the line to take a survey. I figured I’d leave that to one of the 50 million other people they were serving.
Why do I always have technical issues with my computer or programs when I do that last, late check before bed? Inevitably, all of my e-mail disappears, or the printer won’t print, or I can’t sign in to something. And how do machines sense when you are in a hurry? That’s when they crack under the pressure and shut down, just when you need that last page of the fax to go through. So annoying.
I no longer think of the newspaper as reading material or something that should be recycled. I think of it as packing material, as I use it for wrapping as I pack.
Seriously, why is there an expiration date on my bottle of nail polish remover? Is it so toxic that by July, 2017, it will have disintegrated the bottle? If I use it that August, what will happen?
I love the Neil Sedaka song (little known) “I Should’ve Never Let You Go,” about a man’s regret about a woman whom he dumps. But the fact that he sings it as a duet with his daughter kind of creeps me out.
Not that research has been conducted on this topic, but I’m pretty sure than the vast majority of retail clerks who start the transaction by asking you, “How are you today?” actually don’t care how you are today. Your “Fine, thanks, how are you?” response doesn’t mean you care about them, either.
Why is the abbreviation for pounds “lbs?” There are no letters L or B in the word pound. Just another English language oddity, or is there a real reason? Just wondering.
And why is the nickname for William Bill? For Jonathan, Jack? For Elizabeth, Betty? I don’t get it.
I was driving past Quest Diagnostics, where my blood work is done, when I heard the Taylor Swift song “Bad Blood.” Irony? Coincidence?
Have you ever called an 800 number where the menu options had NOT changed? You are told to listen carefully, as if you actually knew the previous menu options, which, unless you have had lots of problems with this organization and called many times before, you probably don’t know in the first place. And how many of us actually know our party’s extension and can enter it at this time?
I recently took a long trip and used the map application on my phone because it gave me more route options than the GPS built into the car. But, because it recognizes traffic, I kept getting a verbal message about traffic and the route being abated, or at least I think that is what the message said. For the first 2 hours of the trip, I thought she was saying something about rutabagas. And then she kept switching the route because it would be shorter, but I didn’t want to go the new way, so I went the original way and the rutabagas kept coming up.
Any time I think to myself that I’ll remember something and I don’t have to write it down I don’t remember it and I wish that I had written it down.
Speaking of which, I am making a pledge to go shopping with a list instead of wandering around ShopRite, seeing things on sale and buying them IN CASE I need them. That’s how you end up with 4 boxes of plastic bags and two containers of salt. Seriously, how often does anyone buy salt? And I have two. And don’t tell me to take one back, because I recycled the receipt, responsible person that I am. So, does anyone need salt?
I’ll admit it: I don’t know the difference between Ice Cube and Ice T. I also cannot identify which Hemsworth brother is which. And you could hold a gun to my head and I would still not know Mary Kate from Ashley Olson.
If you wear a FitBit or any of these new devices that track your activity, you would be amazed at how much ground you cover in a day. On days when I take a 3.5 mile walk, I can cover another few miles just running around the house. Packing boxes and hauling them up and down the stairs is a big contributor to my mileage these days, too!
Thank God for Tide to Go, which I end up using at home. Is that legal?
I wonder why we move our left arm forward with our right leg and vice versa when we walk. Would we tip over if the right leg and arm moved together on the same side? These are things I think about on my walk.
You know that things are bad when you make your dinner choice based on the expiration date on whatever is in the freezer. Tonight’s chicken fettucine was running out of time this month, and it’s gone now. I don’t want to worry about packing/wasting food when I move, so I am trying to eat my way through the food chain here.
I get so sleepy watching TV, but by the time I go upstairs to bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, etc., I am wide awake. I’m hoping that when I move to a house with the bedroom on the first floor, I’ll get into the habit of getting ready for bed earlier and I can just hop in when I feel my eyes starting to close. Of course, I’ll be unpacking for 6 months, so there goes at least some sleep.
The way to a man’s heart is through his – lawn. That’s right. I have yet to meet a man who didn’t consider a compliment about his grass looking really green as the highest form of flattery.
You have no idea how much useless stuff you own until you start packing it. I have donated, sold, recycled and discarded a landfill’s worth of stuff, and I still find more to pack or toss. I am labeling the boxes very specifically because I’m pretty sure a lot of this stuff will never even get UNPACKED, even though I am reluctant to get rid of it now. Throwing out my grade school report cards was a big deal, but I kept my Douglass diploma. These days, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rutgers tried to wrest it from me, but that would happen over my dark, cold, lifeless body.
No comments:
Post a Comment