Category: dumb

I’m writing this post today because it’s been a while since I’ve had a good public flogging, and, frankly, I deserve it.

Tuesday, I ran up to the bookstore on my lunch hour, looking for a graduation present for a friend. I couldn’t find what I needed, so on my way back to my office – in my car, behind the wheel – I searched Amazon for it on my phone.

And then I sailed through a red light, without so much as pausing. I was 3/4 of the way through the intersection before it even registered.

I couldn’t believe I had done something so dumb, and as soon as I got back to my office I confessed my sins. Without missing a beat, my co-worker replied, “And the line of preschoolers you mowed over? They’re all ok?”

It would have been funny if it wasn’t so… possible. The light I went through is quite possibly the busiest intersection, pedestrian-wise, in town. It’s also about, oh, 300 yards from Sam’s school.

Fortunately I didn’t hit anyone and no one hit me, but my God, it could have been bad. Really, really, life-changing-ly (how do you like that word?) bad.

So, I’m going to knock that shark off, like, immediately.

I promise to never shop on Amazon while driving ever again. Ever.

But seriously, it’s time for me to reevaluate my choices, so tell me – what cell phone safety rules to do you follow? Do you make calls? Answer them? Shut your phone off all together?

Man, you can tell from the title that this post is going to be a winner.

It’s true – my keychain is abusive. It hurts me and I keep coming back.

Here’s the offender:

Not that you can tell from that fine piece of photography, but it is made of a thin wire rope. Quite frequently a strand of the rope breaks, and a tiny, unnoticeable metal splinter pops up and pokes the crap out of my hand. It is super awesome… I’ll be walking along, minding my own business when I reach for my keys and stab myself. It draws blood! And also lots of cuss words.

This will happen three or four times in a row, and each time, I vow to buy a new keychain. But then that particular pokey part will break off, and the keychain doesn’t hurt me anymore. So memories of my wounds fade, and I begin to think that my keychain is not so bad. Eventually, I forget to buy a new one.

And then, for no particular reason, it will turn against me and sprout a new needle. I curse and bleed and vow to throw it in the trash, but then…

It’s a vicious cycle, really. If I had to guess, I’d say it has been going on for a year. That’s right, I’ve been carrying around a keychain that regularly makes me bleed for a year.

As my dad would tell me, I have rocks in my head.