I emailed my co-bloggers this morning to let them know that I'd get something posted as soon as I got to work. I usually have at least a draft to work with by Thursday afternoon, but this week has been stupid, at least from a technological point of view, and by the time I was able to sit and think last night I simply could not withstand the ordeal of creating a post on my little phone with my fat fingers.
Driving in to work, I thought about what I'd write, knowing that it would be brief and undoubtedly lame. I had no stories or photos from the week that were worthy of fleshing out, although there was the matter of my lament about the very predicament that had led me to that current moment's quandry: the fact is that we need to resolve the computer wars at home. I had thought and talked about how much I hate shopping for technology and how it's even worse when prospects like Black Friday and Veteran's Day Sales muddy the analytical waters. There, I thought. This is acceptable fodder from which to grow a quick post. I started to write it in my head, as I do.
I got to the office, then made my good morning rounds while the computer booted up. I returned 10 minutes later with coffee in hand, ready to crank that shit out, and saw this:
30 minutes later, it's still there. Well played, universe. All this exercise will surely slim down my fat fingers in no time.