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It’s getting to be that time of year again, isn’t it? You knew you were feeling busier lately than you’d been in, say, mid-July, when everything was kind of in a hazy, summery soft-serve mode. Then September arrived to pick up the pace, and you probably managed to keep in step. But it just so happens that the exact moment when people start thinking about holiday plans usually coincides precisely with an abrupt acceleration of their workloads, stress levels, and internal clock speeds. This week felt like a game of Wild Planet Hyper Dash to me; how about you? The game challenges one’s coordination, math and teamwork skills, overall speed, ability to create mnemonic devices and/or acronyms, knowledge of commercial lyrics/arcane trivia, and patience. It also leaves you a little breathless, with a rapid heartbeat, an adrenaline overload, and a healthy amount of self-doubt. If you’re going to stay on top of things in this, our modern world of today, you’ve got to be able to handle, or better yet, enjoy that sensation of being overburdened on as many levels as possible. Wild Planet Hyper Dash is only trying to help. Ready?
I had a job interview today, and when I got there my voice apparently sounded a little hoarse to the receptionist. It was probably only anxiety on my part, but she seemed to be a sweet old lady, and asked if I’d like something to drink. “Just water, thank you,” I replied, and a few minutes later she handed me what appeared to be a juice box.
Without thinking, I took a swig. And time stood still. My eyes bulged at the effort of swallowing, while my throat demanded an immediate and quite forceful ejection of its contents, which it took almost superhuman efforts to override. Meanwhile, I could feel a warm viscosity seeming to coat my entire esophageal tract. Once I stopped sputtering and gagging, I read the label on my juice box. What had I just done to myself? I’d ingested some honey-consistency lemon-flavored thickened water, that’s what I’d done. It claims to have a true water taste that you’ll enjoy, but that’s only if you like your water roughly the consistency of nearly-gelled Jello, with a touch of lemon—which believe me, only adds to the thickness, somehow. I kept expecting to spit out pulp, or something…maybe an alien baby. Product is also available in nectar consistency, but what that means will have to remain a mystery; I’ll never be trying any.
Don’t think I’ll get the job, either. I couldn’t stop doing this involuntary shuddering and making little scraping movements with my teeth, trying to get my tongue from feeling as though its thickened water coating was permanent, a sensation I’m still trying to shake. Next time I’ll be sure to ask for the unflavored, water-consistency water.
Lazy Sunday afternoons often find me thinking about days gone by; then, as now, there’d often be a football game droning in the background, which meant some of us were going to be very restless without alternative entertainment options. Yesterday I was doing some deep cleaning (someone tell my mother-in-law, please) and found a few of the games that used to enchant us for hours.
Which witch? was so much fun! You tried to get yourself out of the haunted house made of cardboard…it was a “real,” three-dimensional house, crafted with such intricacy that I often found myself feeling as though I were really inside. I guess I was easy that way. Our family always got a little too rough with the whammy ball down the chimney part of the game, and then arguments tended to break out, which means my cardboard mansion is kind of flattened and bent and doesn’t much resemble the cover. I treasure it nonetheless.
And who didn’t love Strolling Bowling? Much to my surprise, this game is still on the market, keeping up with all of today’s fancy electronic devices. Trust me, kids, Guitar Hero has nothing on this game. See, the ball has little feet, and it “walks” over to the pins. Talk about a fast-paced game of skill and action! Plus, get it? Strolling bowling? Great, great game. Kind of. Okay, we never really played with it.
On the other hand, we were cuckoo for Odd Ogg. You rolled one of the little balls his way, trying to aim beneath him, or at least between his hands. Hit him in the right place and he’d move forward, but if your ball gave him “the bad touch,” he’d move backward and stick out this big red tongue and give you the raspberry. The concept of a toy that would mock you when you made a mistake—why more companies didn’t follow Ideal’s lead will always be beyond me! Playing with Ogg was one of the best rehearsals for real life I ever experienced.
A two-pack of personal debris removal systems! What genius came up with this idea and a half? Imagine each step a clean sweep, enabling you to walk backwards on a beach and leave no footprints, or to have the cleanest sidewalk on your street. And just picture what you could do with “the plow,” those of you in colder climates!
The best part about this product is that it’s actually an empty box, because there’s no such thing as Kleen Stride, although we fully believe there should be. And $7.99 isn’t really so bad for an empty box…although, again, we’re going to have to hit you with a large-ish shipping and handling charge, because empty boxes require twice the man-hours and effort.
Mmm, you smell like you just got back from a beery lunch at the local sports bar, with a strong base note of stale cigarette smoke, a dash of devil-may-care insouciance (spicy, yet unobtrusive), and a slight hint of yesterday’s unwashed armpit as an unexpected clincher. After all, it’s casual Friday, at last! You may have questioned the dress code at work, unsure of what exactly was meant by “business casual,” but there’ll be no doubting your olfactory selectivity. Available soon: Couchbound Saturday, the first of our weekend scents.
