Swamped

I am simply swamped. I have two Soap Opera Digests (free weekly from a parent at school, going on three years now) and an Us Weekly to read, plus I'm in the middle of two books and there are 5 events saved on my TiVo that I need to view. What's a girl to do? Well, this one apparently sits down to type on her blog. And you know what I want to talk about? Ear buds.

That's right, ear buds. These things, these Bluetooth headsets, or whatever they are, have gotten seriously out of control. In what realm is it necessary for an individual to be so tightly bound to their phone that they permanently attach it to their ear? These things boast 15 hours of wireless talk time! Can people no longer waste the 2 precious seconds it might take to answer the actual cellular phone that is ringing in their pocket? When did we become weird freaky robot-looking things that walk around with phones hooked to their ears?

What really kills me about these is the Aura of Eternal Rudeness that they provide the user. I was in a restaurant the other day and - remember I casually eavesdrop stare unabashedly at strangers in public, much to the chagrin of my husband - there was this guy, Mr. Cool. Well. He had one of these jobbies attached to his ear whilst he waited with a small group of friends for a table. They had margaritas...they were chatting, laughing...having a good time! Was he on the phone? No, just wearing it as an accessory. An accoutrement, if you will. Do you know what an idiot he looked like? He thought he was the bee's knees, buddy. Drove me insane.

Then I have this parent at school. We'll call him The BusinessMan. He wants everyone to know that he's the BM too (Hee! I said BM...sorry, bathroom humor. Now I'm all tickled and giggly) and so prior to entering my classroom to talk about his child, he rattles off some BM Talk sternly into his phone accoutrement, a la Donald Trump in his limo on the Apprentice. ["Right! Right! It's a done deal! Deliver that message! Hold my calls! I'm in a meeting!"] With alien-like earpiece still attached to his head, he then disinterestedly runs through the parent-teacher meeting protocol in a bored and droning voice, not really hearing anything I say and generally speaking over me. ["Right....right....so my boy is doing what he's supposed to? Homework in? Acting right? Good...good....well, thanks for your time, Mrs.] Ugh. I hate those things. Shudder.

Well, that helped me procrastinate my haunting commitments that are keeping me swamped for a few minutes. It's back to the grind for me, back to the grind.