Random Mind Fluff
Sometimes it takes awhile for the flotsam and jetsam of my life to rise to the surface, so I’ve stopped being surprised when stuff like this randomly pops into my head and starts waving its arms for attention.
Last weekend my Dad and I were dropped into an alternate universe.
Yeah, I know, you’ve probably heard that before, and to be honest, it’s not as exciting as it sounds. Turns out it was just Wesley Chapel, but for a few giddy moments, I knew what it must feel like to be a starship captain. Or Christopher Columbus.
“What do you mean this isn’t India? Isabelle is going to be pissed if I don’t come back with spices!”
Once the truth of my mistake was revealed, I had one burning question: Who gave the FDOT the right to go willy-nilly changing the numbers of highways in midstream? Isn’t stuff like that chiseled in metal, like one of those truths uttered by people like Stephen Hawking and Maury Povich?
Okay, bad example.
At least I reacted responsibly and pulled into an Arby’s before bringing up Google Maps on my phone to figure out where the hell I was. Dad wisely suggested, as long we were there, we might as well go inside and use the facilities and grab something to drink, just in case the universe pulled any more funny stuff on us before we got back to his house. And I figured, as long as we were inside, I might as well verify our location with the kid behind the counter, on the off chance Google was pulling one of their hilariously refreshing practical jokes (funny the first dozen times, not so much after that). Not wanting to draw anyone else into my confusion, I kept the inquiry simple.
“Is that big road out front Hwy 54?”
The kid got a glazed look in his eyes and turned to the guy hunting and pecking at the register next to him for guidance.
“Um, yeah, I think so,” the guidance counselor answered.
Why the hell did I need to remember that now?
Last weekend my Dad and I were dropped into an alternate universe.
Yeah, I know, you’ve probably heard that before, and to be honest, it’s not as exciting as it sounds. Turns out it was just Wesley Chapel, but for a few giddy moments, I knew what it must feel like to be a starship captain. Or Christopher Columbus.
“What do you mean this isn’t India? Isabelle is going to be pissed if I don’t come back with spices!”
Once the truth of my mistake was revealed, I had one burning question: Who gave the FDOT the right to go willy-nilly changing the numbers of highways in midstream? Isn’t stuff like that chiseled in metal, like one of those truths uttered by people like Stephen Hawking and Maury Povich?
Okay, bad example.
At least I reacted responsibly and pulled into an Arby’s before bringing up Google Maps on my phone to figure out where the hell I was. Dad wisely suggested, as long we were there, we might as well go inside and use the facilities and grab something to drink, just in case the universe pulled any more funny stuff on us before we got back to his house. And I figured, as long as we were inside, I might as well verify our location with the kid behind the counter, on the off chance Google was pulling one of their hilariously refreshing practical jokes (funny the first dozen times, not so much after that). Not wanting to draw anyone else into my confusion, I kept the inquiry simple.
“Is that big road out front Hwy 54?”
The kid got a glazed look in his eyes and turned to the guy hunting and pecking at the register next to him for guidance.
“Um, yeah, I think so,” the guidance counselor answered.
Why the hell did I need to remember that now?
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