One last post and then I must get my butt back to work. Human emotion and objects.
A couple of days ago I was vacuuming (a noteworthy item in itself) when the damn thing got caught on the doorway. I threw a fit and kicked it a couple of times. Oddly enough I felt better afterwards.
I’m continuously talking to my PC - usually it’s “what in blazes are you doing now?”, or “no, don’t do that” It has yet to respond.
Several winters back we owned a Renault Le Car. Great for work as an “A” to “B” vehicle for lugging tools and such. Anyway, overnight we’d gotten a lot of snow and the little beast was good and stuck. As is his way, my husband is running late and still has to dig it out. (I’m watching from the window.)
- climbs into the car, puts his coffee down, lights up a smoke, keys in ignition and it starts right up (what a good little car)
- climbs out, digs a bit around the wheels
- back into the car, places in reverse, no dice, hell, the wheels are not even touching the ground
- more digging
- back into the car, still no dice
- more digging and a lot of swearing
- back into the car - not an inch
- more digging and a lot more swearing
- back into the car - you guessed, not one inch
- he now uses the shovel to beat the living crap out of the car
- FUCK IT, he takes the truck