1. I just found a package of unopened Pop Tarts on my desk. This is probably the score of the century being as in my 6:18 a.m. delirium, I didn’t eat any breakfast. And because of the aforementioned ungodly waking hour I’ve had two cups of coffee today.
2. However, I cannot find my much beloved ruler. It’s 15 inches of silver gloriousness, with a nice cork back. I love that ruler and I miss it terribly.
3. Therefore I cannot properly enjoy the Pop Tarts because everything will be bittersweet during the official Ruler Mourning period.
4. Suddenly I feel like the greasy guy with the stapler from Office Space. But damnit, that was a good ruler!
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The Pop-Tarts were likely left as payment for the ruler, like a pack rat will leave an acorn as a trade for a shiny button.
I might buy that, had I not found the Pop Tarts in that pile of papers next to the phone, under a workback schedule, three release agreements, one empty CD case, and two Amazon invoices.
Thomas Jefferson said We get the rulers we deserve…
and thanks for Flannery’s blog. I hope I’m that productive when I’m dead.
Are you insinuating that I don’t deserve a good ruler?