Falling Stuff

I can handle most of life’s challenges, but lately I’m noticing that one of my biggest problems is having stuff fall to the floor.  Sometimes it drops from my hands as if it’s the result of a mysterious muscle spasm, or without explanation from a solidly stacked tower of storage that could not in any way have been described as poorly planned or teetering.   Sometimes the stuff drops and bounces and rolls annoyingly under a piece of furniture.  Sometimes, after serious searching and straining and stooping and grunting and sweating and cursing, I find the annoying roll away thing behind a chair or under the sofa.  Other times I accept that it’s become part of an alternate universe and now exists outside of the view of my bifocals and poor dim light vision.  Some other times the stuff drops and smashes loudly and shatters and causes a cleanup that requires the canceling of previous plans for the day.  And don’t even bother screaming “NOOOO”, because I tried it plenty, and to no avail.  Some call it gravity, and I don’t know about all that scientific doublespeak, but I hear so much about nonsensical experiments to send a man to the moon and cooling the arctic, so how about a little attention to stop stuff from falling to the floor?  I’m not sure how to ignite a movement to fix this, but maybe you kids could set up a go fund me page or whatever the hell you do when you get a bug up your ass to save the world.

Facebook and Robot Vetting

Sometimes Facebook makes me type in a crazy scrambled code to reply to or “like” a post.  It helps Facebook confirm that I’m not a robot, which I guess is very important.   Sometimes I have trouble reading and understanding what the letters or symbols are, which fills me with anxiety and self-doubt about my robot status.  Anyway, I hope the government doesn’t track my attempt failures; I’m just trying to “like” a frigging cat video or picture of someone’s birthday bash.