When bored I'll pop open Word and wait. I'll usually won't have to wait too long before the keys start to click. The backspace key gets the most action. Followed by the delete key.

Usually the difference between the backspace key and the delete key is the same difference between changing your mind and quitting.



If I had a chronicler I'm pretty sure I would read her work to make sure she was getting things right. I say 'she' because she would be some hot single chick who rides around on a winged fire breathing unicorn.

I would read over her shoulder, close enough to smell her hair, or look down her low cut blouse but I would never look because I would want her to think that I was something that I am not. I would fall in love with her.

She would only ever wear short pleated skirts that would follow the top half of the curve of her ass before they fell draped from her roundest extreme. Her hair would be longer than shoulder length so she could do that hair tossing thing that hot women do.

She would be within eleven years of my own age so I could defend against some of the 'you creep' statements. Most likely she would be brunette. (I think I just fell in love with the word brunetteness).

She would be smarter than me and regard me with a slight amount of pity. She would belong to some sort of chronicler's guild. I would be her writing project. She would constantly be telling me "Timmy, I'm just supposed to record. I'm not supposed to meddle." She would call me Timmy when talking to me but refer to me as Tim when talking about me because that's what all the hot chicks do.

She knew once she was done writing her project and went her way that it would break my heart. She would know I was trying to hide my brokenness and she would pretend I was successful at it. She would worry about the future me without the present her or at least someone like her.

She would know that when no one is looking, I tend to get lazy and worthless.

She would marvel at how tiny my flash drive was, because size does matters.