Few things impress me more than how fast I type. Blog, I type so fast. I just received an email, read it, and then responded super quickly because 1. I knew the answer 2. I type really fast. My fingers just flew across my keyboard and words, my words, appeared.
Sometimes when I’m typing I think, “Look at me go! I’m typing so fast!”
There are many things I’m a jerk about, blog, and typing is totally one of them. When I see people staring at the keyboard trying to find a letter, I make it a point to gape, rudely.
Just the other day, my boyfriend’s mom was telling me about how good her son is at typing. I nodded as though I was impressed, but really, I was relieved. I can’t be seen dating a slow typist. What would people think? Seriously. It would be humiliating. How would I even go about explaining the slow typing to people? I wouldn’t. Instead, I would insist on typing all of his correspondences _for_ him if we were in public. “What’s that honey? You want to try out this laptop in the store by typing things in to the search engine? Here. Let me type it for you. I insist. Step away from the keyboard.” Then I would crack my knuckles and procede to wow anyone nearby with my keyboard dexterity.
In other news, yesterday my wacky “aunt” called and reminded my dad that robots are going to take over the world in 2028. She backed up this theory by recounting a vivid dream she had one night in 2003.
Obviously, I do not believe she is actually my aunt. At the least she is certainly not related by blood.
Also, I do not believe robots are going to suddenly take over the world in 2028. I do suspect they are going to actively undermine my personal social progress, and they have already begun.
I will share my evidence by recounting a horrible occurrance from just yesterday. I sent a text message. It was a great text message, naturally, because I wrote it.
Here is what I wrote:
Haha! Funny picture 🙂 It’s very festive and really brings out the holiday spirit! I pretty sure he’s going to kill you though. Seriously, I’m talking murder. (JK).
Do you see the (JK) blog? It stands for Just Kidding. That is KEY. It means I can say anything I want, and it will be totally harmless as long as it is concluded with a: “JK.”
And here is the message I got back, from my cell phone provider:
Messages sent to non-VZW customers with graphics/tones/formatting and/or 160+ characters are sent as plain text with only the first 160 characters.
This means they cut out my “JK.” So now, rather than send a funny message, I have sent some sort of bizarre death message.
What could I do to rectify the situation? Send a follow-up text message that said, “He won’t really kill you. I was kidding.” ? No, that would take me too much time, and it would look suspicious. So I let it go. My friend probably thinks he’s going to die now, and that’s my cell phone provider’s (technology’s) fault. When he gets over his fear of being killed and realizes I was – JK – he will hate me, and I will be down one friend.
So as you can see, the robots have already set on their destructive path. I’m not even JK*.
*(JK)
See how that works?
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