Saturday, September 23, 2006

Good Intentions

Got a new cell phone recently, a tiny thing no bigger than a business card holder. Problem I have with cell phones is that I misplace them, which is what happened to the last one, and the one before. Now, if they came with a an expandable keychain attached, that would solve the problem.

* * *

Been neglecting my daily walk, having been too 'busy' as noted in a previous post.

It's the same old story. You start the day with good intentions, but your attention is captured by some other chore that is easily done on the fly, like taking out the old newspapers and magazines for recycling, or unloading the dishwasher, or turning off a light that has been on downstairs since last night, and you see that the light actually is coming from your computer monitor, so you sit down at the desk to check your email, most of which are likely to be jokes that your friends have been circulating, some of them being duplicates because they come from people who send them out to undisclosed recipients, and so the joke is recycled from one friend to another and may in fact have originated with you, as you may discover to your annoyance, and find that you are as much a culprit in this merry-go-round as any of your unwitting correspondents, even though you may try as much as possible to check (if the email contains a warning about some disastrous event or a shocking exposé or a religious message or a free gift, and admonishes you please to send it at once to all your friends, because if you do not do it within a specified period of time, a calamity may befall you, or you will miss out on some terrific deal or blessing or piece of luck, or else some poor afflicted child may perish as a result of your lack of compassion from not following the instructions) against a website that purports to unmask all kinds of hoaxes and so-called urban legends, to see whether the email contents are true or false, and all this with the nagging ever-present thought that a computer virus or worm may have insinuated itself into the hitherto pristine machine before which you sit in the innocent expectation that among all this morass of jokes and pop-up advertisements you may find some mail that is actually worth reading.

And an hour or two later, you have completely forgotten what you started out to do.



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