Summeritis and Life in 2008

I've been suffering from a severe case of writer's block lately, which I'm pretty sure is secondary to my severe case of summeritis. Summeritis is a bit like senioritis was back in high school, except it isn't quite as much fun (less partying, more sleeping). Symptoms of summeritis include:

• A complete lack of motivation to do anything productive. Even favorite hobbies seem like too much work.
  
• Staying up way too late
  
• Sleeping way too late
  
• An overwhelming desire to lie in a lounge chair with a cold drink and a good book for hours at a time
  
• Unwillingness to wear anything more substantial or dressy than shorts, a tank top, and flip flops
  
• Basking in memories of summers past, when each summer day seemed filled with endless possibilities involving the pool, the park, or a cute member of the gender of your choice (often found at the pool or the park). Dang. Where's my time machine?
  
• Moving to a tropical island and making a living selling tchotchkes to tourists starts sounding like a good career plan
  
• It almost seems worth it to go back to teaching so you can have summers off. Note: The operative word in this sentence is, "almost."
  

In my sun-induced lethargy, I'm finding it difficult to think of anything to say, creative or not, so I've turned to my inbox for inspiration. I haven't gotten any amusing spam lately, so I'm having to dig a little deeper. Fortunately, my pal Gunnar came to the rescue today, forwarding along a funny bit that's been making the e-mail rounds since at least the late 90s. Here it is, with my not-so-witty responses interspersed. I know it isn't up to my usual (low) standards, but it's the best I can do. Once I sell my house and move to Belize, I should have something more interesting to write about. Anyone wanna buy a lovely tiki god? I'll throw in the grass skirt free.

YOU KNOW YOU ARE LIVING IN 2008 when...

1. You accidentally enter your PIN on the microwave.
Haven't done that yet, but give me time.

2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.
Sad but true. I would also add that I have trouble playing backgammon with a real backgammon set. I can't quite remember how to set it up, because my PDA's backgammon game sets up for me. Pathetic.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.
Not quite, but if you throw in email addresses, I think we're there.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.
All the time! And I've also IMed with someone a few offices away.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.
Yes yes yes! Don't make me find an envelope and a stamp to communicate with you, and phones are so 1988. Actually, email is so 2005. Doesn't everyone text now?

6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.
I refuse to do this, but my husband calls me from the driveway, usually to tell me he's home. Well, duh... I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I'm pretty sure I would have noticed when you walked in the door--in about the time it took you to dial the damn phone.

7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen
Yes, in tiny print way too small for normal humans to read. I first noticed this phenomenon in about 1995, when I was watching a baseball game at a friend's house. ESPN had their web address in the corner of the screen. Both it and the score were way too small to see, and I still had OK eyesight back then. Shortly thereafter, it became impossible for me to watch cable news. The talking head reading the news was in a little box, surrounded by at least three other boxes that flashed and scrolled stuff. It was worse than frames on web sites! I have the attention span of a gnat--I can't deal with that much distraction.

8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't even have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.
LOL. I'm not usually guilty of this one, but the hubster goes into hysterics if he can't find his phone. Heaven forbid he might miss a call from some member of his family, wanting to borrow money. And heaven forbid I don't have my phone at hand in case he wants to call me to tell me that someone in his family wants to borrow money.

10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.
Nah, I drink my caffeine of choice while online. Multitasking, baby!

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )
Not yet, and if I start doing that, please shoot me.

12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.
Guilty. Throw in a sheepish look or two also.

13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.
I'm still contemplating that, as well as whether or not to include my inane comments. Worse still, I think I'll post it on my blog. Email forwarding is so 2002.

14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.
More like too oblivious.

15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.
*Sigh* Guilty.


~~~~~~~~~~~AND FINALLY~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself.
I laugh at myself every day! It seems to the be the trendy thing to do, judging by how many other people laugh at me.

Go on, forward this to your friends. You know you want to!
Maybe, but the blog post would be more efficient.