The Networker

I lost my cellphone…again. It wasn’t in my purse and it wasn’t in the booth I was sitting in. I could think of only two other possibilities and they both invoked fear and trembling. Either it had been stolen by someone with a lot of contacts outside my calling circle or it was lost in the landfill—the one inside my car.

A lot of older people blame their age when they forget something. I think they’re forgetting how much they forgot when they were younger. If there’s one thing I remember, it’s that I’ve always been forgetful. And I blame it on the same thing

I have now reached a point in my online existence where I’m receiving more spam than regular e-mail. In fact, I’m receiving more spam than

Recently, a friend gave me one of those grippers you use to open jar lids. She said she’d found it at a thrift shop and, remembering I’d said I needed one, she’d purchased it for me. I thanked her profusely. How nice to be thought of. Except that I didn’t remember telling her I needed it.

Sometimes I sit at my computer thinking about all the things I could be doing if I weren’t working. Then when I stop working, I think about all the things I didn’t finish when I was working because I was thinking about not working.

I know my life would be more interesting if I could think some new thoughts. I would probably be more interesting too. You’re already very interesting, but I’m going to make some suggestions anyway.