The trouble with a weekend spent in a perfect state of sloth is, the laundry never gets done. Curses! Foiled by our own machines! I mean, this is the 21st century, blogfolk; by now, we should be able to throw our clothes into a hamper on Saturday, and have it all automatically washed, dried, and folded by our machines by Sunday afternoon. But no - they're not that comprehensive yet. You still have to take your valuable hammock time to gather the clothes and feed the machines.
(Suddenly, I'm reminded of my first state job, at a call center. Disgruntled people would call us because they objected to their tax refunds being offset to pay back their debt(s) to the government. While making arrangements with me, unwillingly, they'd sometimes balk at having to disclose stuff like previous employer or work phone. 'Can't you just get that from your computer?' they'd demand. 'I thought all government computers were linked!' They'd actually be mad that they had to provide input to the machine to get it to work in their favor.
And I'd think to myself, 'People, you do not want all the government computers linked to each other. Oh, one day, they will be ... it's inevitable ... but when that day comes, then the government will know more about you than you do ... and then we won't need to hear from you anymore. You will hear from us. The news will only travel in one direction. And the news will never be good. So be grateful you live in such disorganized times.')
Hmm. I don't know why, but suddenly, I'm vastly content with running my machines, instead of having them run me.
Nice day, isn't it? For now ...
George Orwell couldn't have written a better post.
Posted by: Your mother | May 21, 2007 at 10:50 AM
You might have something with the magic laundry machines though. Let's not dismiss it! We need a R&D department to get on this right away!
Posted by: Your brother | May 22, 2007 at 06:34 AM