PWS

I haven't had time to post in the past day or so, because I've been having PWS. A while back, I wrote about this on my other blog. Not to share too much information, but when PMS and PWS combine, it's not pretty. One ends up crying over things like cake toppers. On a normal day, I might realize (like any sane person) that the concept of a cake topper is inherently funny, like unitards, or hedgehogs. Or bacon.

However, a primary symptom of PMS and its close cousin (they could marry in Florida), PWS is that inherently funny and trivial things take on a deadly seriousness, without even the faintest trace of irony.

So, much like how on sitcoms they do a clip show centered around a contrived frame story when the writers run out of ideas (e.g. the lights go out in the Drummond mansion, causing Willis and Arnold to frequently say, Remember that time when ... like, Remember that time when that weird older dude took pictures of me and Dudley in our underwear and touched us inappropraitely? )

Today's blog entry is actually a re-run from a few months ago. You don't want to read what I might write today. It would not be pretty. But remember that time when, a few months ago, I made that blog entry about PWS? ...

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I haven't been in the mood to write much lately, because I've been suffering from PWS. It's very much like PMS (just turn over the "M"). The symptoms are strikingly similar, only, instead of a few days, it takes place for a few months directly before a wedding. When combined with actual PMS, the results can be toxic.

The screen ripples. We're back again.

Remember that time Dad sent me an alarmist email about the wedding, and I wrote about it in my blog? Seems like only a few months ago ...

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As I learned the other day, I'm about to crash a Martian space craft. My high-strung, yet very well-intentioned father sent me an email with a full range of bold, italicised, underlined warnings, infused with exclamatory punctuation!!!!

An actual excerpt:

"... always remember the billion dollars that was wasted on the spacecraft to Mars that crashed into the planet instead of going into orbit because somebody didn't check to see exactly what system of measurement was to be used in the programming. As it turned out one group of programmers used English linear calculations to position the spacecraft on the approach to Mars, and another group of programmers used metric calculations to tell it how to go into orbit. Unfortunately, the guidance system only understood the English system, and it took the kilometer instructions it received from the metric programming and translated the Kilometers into the same number of miles. As a result, the spacecraft dug a big hole in Mars instead of going into low orbit."

This was inspired by the fact that, among other things, I have not yet secured a ring bearer pillow. Or a cake cutter. Or an inter-plantetary GPS device, calibrated to the metric system.