I generally like November. About half the people I know were born in November, plus Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. November is everything January could be, but isn't.
But day two of this auspicious month was rife with malfunctions.
I woke up this morning and went to work an hour later than usual BECAUSE STUPID DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME FINALLY ENDED!!!!! (Don't get me started. However, I will say this: if God had meant for the time to change twice a year, He would have put instructions in the Bible.) So, I moseyed into work at 8:30, which was really easy because it felt like 9:30. As usual, I turned on my computer, and--as has been happening for the past week and a half--about 15 ERROR messages appeared, each with a metallic kind of thunking sound.
Here's something you probably don't know about me: I would make a terrible special agent. I have reflexes like an elderly koala bear who has been prescribed medical marijuana for it's cancer symptoms. When something goes wrong, I usually wait a couple of weeks to see if it goes away. And when it doesn't go away, I begin to complain half-heartedly, asking people's opinions but not listening to their suggestions. Then I call Bryan in and he takes care of it. But in this case I couldn't even be bothered to do that until it bacame impossible to bear closing 68 ERROR windows over the course of the day. So, this morning I closed about 2 dozen little windows and thought to myself, "This is really dull and annoying. Plus, I think it's worse than last week." So, I called Bryan and he came over and and fixed it. Apparently, all those error messages were the product about about 12 different "infections," which I take to mean "viruses." On the bright side, I'll never be recruited and brainwashed for one of those secret government programs like in The Bourne Identity.
So, after wrestling my computer to the ground, handcuffing its little computer arms behind its back and marching it off to computer court to be tried before a jury of its peers, I came home. Now, today is my dear friend David Mack's birthday. These are some reasons I love David Mack:
1. He is just so sweet.
2. He loves babies and can get them to stop crying even when they're 2 months old and making sounds like a goat on fire.
3. He doesn't look creepy with a mustache.
4. He doesn't skimp when it comes to cheeses.
Oh, and step off ladies--he's taken. Nevertheless, I love David Mack, so I thought I'd make him some napkins for his birthday. So, I got out the old sewing machine and began to sew.
Now, for those of you who have never sewn anything on a machine, let me give you a quick primer in the operation of one of these technological marvels. A sewing machine is very much like an automobile in that it it has a gas pedal. When you press the gas pedal with your foot, it goes; when you release the gas pedal with your foot, it stops.
Well, imagine my surprise this afternoon when I began to create David Mack's napkins, and everything was coming along nicely until I tried to take my foot off the gas, but the sewing machine wasn't having it. It just kept right on sewing. It was like a wild horse galloping uncontrolled across a prairie with me on its back. Anyway, I sewed 4 napkins by holding the fabric steady, and when I came to the end of the line, I would either try to whip around the corner really fast or have to turn the whole machine off and then turn it back on when I had the fabric ready again.
All the while, Odessa has learned to crawl and was chugging along like a little zombie robot with a system malfunction towards Ruby, who is a 90 lb dog and unquestionably terrified of this new development.