What Now?

| November 3, 2019 | 0 Comments

No Really, What Now?

by Laura Walcher

Okay, so once again, in a week of unrelenting frustrations and challenges, I decided not to strangle Mr. Entitled.  (“Fen” is his “real” name; our smart-aleck black poodle/bichon, who’s grown up to believe himself the emperor, tho’ he doesn’t even pay the mortgage.)

So, he dips beneath a bush, and exits with some disgusting prize hanging from his mouth.  One that I knew, okay, intuited, didn’t belong there. (I can tell that stuff when he maniacally scrambles to get out of my way.)  That didn’t take much.

But, hey, I had other troubles: techno-chaos: “Alexa” hadn’t exactly died; she just didn’t work; tho’ she endlessly repeated that she would. If she could.

My computer died – no, no, I exaggerate.  It just sullenly slept. (The Mr. finally woke it up, but he has no idea how he did it.) Then, I emailed an urgent note to two Union -Tribune (UT) reporters that continually bounced. Their problem – or mine?   Never mind that I’ve been emailing the UT for…decades.

And, more: family issues.  My brother has a “new” phone; I use a not dead yet little flipper; so far, it loves me. My sister loves hers, too, so did not gracefully receive a gift of a giant “Jitterbug” from her children, excited tho they were to “bring” her into the 21st, etc. etc.  She hates it.  Should she give it a try? Turn it in? She gulped a kind’ve “thank-you”? Hoped, beyond hope, of course – that she could hide her little flipper whenever her kids show up? Ahh!!  My sister is prone to heartfelt guilt, so don’t go thinking for a minute that she can come clean with them; that shows a lack of … appreciation.

My brother’s phone regularly hangs up on me.  He thinks it’s my phone, but my phone never hangs up on anyone – least of all my brother, of whom I am terribly fond. He’d had a perfectly workable flipper, too, ‘til his kid insisted on him having a phone that would reflect well on a distinguished attorney such as he.


Mr. Entitled’s issue? Well, compared to technology, it was reasonably manageable. All I had to do was wrest a perfectly revolting, over-used tea bag out of his mouth, and hope that one of these days, the emperor would forgive me.

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