Recently, in an uncharacteristic burst of self-awareness, I've become conscious of a few new features about myself that aren't necessarily, well, impressive.
1. All these years, and despite all our progression into modernity, I have no faculty for recording my own voicemail mailbox message. My voice always sounds funny and nasal and far too high-pitched to be socially acceptable. When I think back to my first mailbox message I ever recorded (when I was 18 and got my first cellphone), I had to make 26 attempts before I could settle on something even remotely palatable. Yesterday, more than ten years since my first time, it still took me 17 attempts. I think you would agree, not the kind of progress that really moves civilizations forward.
2. When someone calls at work who I don't want to talk to, all of a sudden, my bladder has to pee. I mean, so bad, I just have to end the call. I'm dead serious. It doesn't involve any conniving or other sinister motive - it's just a natural instinctive defence mechanism my obstreperous bladder has developed of its own accord. And safe to say, probably a career hazard.
3. Whenever my wallet feels fat and bursting at its seems, and I pull it out of my pocket with a swoosh! of $anticipation$, it's always full of ones. Always just ones. Today at lunch, even the guy at Subway making my sandwich gave me a rather pitying look when I pulled out my fat wallet and spilled 11 ones onto his counter.
So it is with such thoughts weighing down on my soul that I trudge wearily through life. You see how the elements are pitted against me?
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