|Today's evening beach walk. (thank god) There were hundreds of gulls.|
I heard THIS today as I was driving and had to pull over. If you're a regular reader here, you'll remember that about a month ago I LOST DAN'S VOICEMAILS. I was overjoyed to hear that after three days the 11 engineers working to recover the lost message from this guy's wife succeeded. If you Google "lost voicemails from loved ones" you'll see that is not how it usually goes. I recommend you have a box of kleenex handy if you do Google that. Just reading the search results page without actually clicking on anything is enough to shatter your heart.
Here's the thing. A voicemail is not just a recording of a person's voice. It's a recording of them speaking directly to you and only you. Those words are for your ears only. And they've had a few seconds to gather their thoughts while they listened to your outgoing message. They want to talk to you. They have something to say. They want to talk to you so bad that they're going to talk even though you're not really there in person listening.
So yeah. Fuck you T-Mobile.
And speaking of the voices of loved ones, it's monumentally ironic that as I type this, I'm opening up my iTunes to drown out the sound of my mother who is on one of her moaning jags. Are you okay? Do you need something? Can I help you? Do you need a pain pill? These are the questions I've politely asked while my brain is screaming shutupshutupshutupshutupshuthefuckup.
So yeah. Fuck you old age and all the meds with the weird side effects and every other degenerative thing that can make a person moan and groan non-stop without even knowing it.
Yeah. It's 9:00 and I'm going to bed.