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A Few More Of Me

Last week was insane at work. Any time I got a chance to breathe, I counted the days, hours and finally minutes left to the weekend so I could get some rest. As luck would have it, J came down with a fever on Friday evening on our way back from an open-air concert.

At first I wondered if the high decibel noise (80s rock is not Js' most favored genre) had made her ill. It was more serious than that and the weekend, as my old buddy Than would put it, was "toast". At times like this, I wish there were a few more of "me" so the sum total of "my" work could be spread around more equitably.

Maybe if I wait a few more years my wish can come true. I am already jealous of the generation that will spend its days reading for pleasure while sipping martinis on the beach as their android selves took care of mundane chores like working to pay the bills. Neros of the future could be fiddling as Rome burnt and be none the worse for it - they could blame it on android malfunction.

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Anonymous said…
You should tell your daughter that at least you spared her the '70s rock. Next time take some earplugs or the nifty attenuator versions.

If I had one of those robots when I was working in the last two jobs I could have sent him to the interminable, mostly unproductive meetings and saved my braincells from atrophying at an alarming rate. Even today the thought of going to a meeting makes me sit up with a cold sweat.
12:23 AM
Heartcrossings said…
I chortle in glee imagining the look on F's (the madman at work who per J's advise I've learnt to ignore) face as he rants furiously at who he thinks is me :)
7:12 AM
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