I wish I had invented Post It Notes.
Seriously, little pieces of colored paper with adhesive on the back?!?! How did I not come up with that?
A bit of googling tells me Post It Notes first saw the light of day around 1977, which coincidentally is when I first saw the light of day. So I clearly have a good excuse. I did not invent Post In Notes because I was busy with important jobs like learning to hold my own head up and sleeping through the night.
But if I'd been more into paper in the late 70's I surely would have come up with it.
I use a lot of Post It Notes. Tonight I used one to make a grocery list for Chad. He'd volunteered for the trek, but then learned the errand also include a gas station stop. Too tired to live, Chad decided he'd rather not go to the store.
So we had a Post It Note chat.
You know, where I write a little message on a Post It Note and hand it to him. He responds aloud. I keep the conversation going with another little message. He talks. I don't. It's a weird game, which is obviously why I like it.
Even though I thought my vibrant, limey green Post Its were very persuasive, the trip to the store still came down to a lively game of paper, rocks, scissors.
Paper. Rocks. Scissors.
I lost.
Best two out of three.
I still lost.
Off I went into the dark, windy night, wearing my new white winter coat with the fur trimmed hood, gifted to me by my sainted mother. The fabric has a little sheen to it. Wearing it makes me feel like a sassy Eskimo.
Chad says don't worry about it, if I were an eskimo, I'd be sassy.
I wonder if Eskimos use Post It Notes?
A bit of googling tells me Post It Notes first saw the light of day around 1977, which coincidentally is when I first saw the light of day. So I clearly have a good excuse. I did not invent Post In Notes because I was busy with important jobs like learning to hold my own head up and sleeping through the night.
But if I'd been more into paper in the late 70's I surely would have come up with it.
I use a lot of Post It Notes. Tonight I used one to make a grocery list for Chad. He'd volunteered for the trek, but then learned the errand also include a gas station stop. Too tired to live, Chad decided he'd rather not go to the store.
So we had a Post It Note chat.
You know, where I write a little message on a Post It Note and hand it to him. He responds aloud. I keep the conversation going with another little message. He talks. I don't. It's a weird game, which is obviously why I like it.
Even though I thought my vibrant, limey green Post Its were very persuasive, the trip to the store still came down to a lively game of paper, rocks, scissors.
Paper. Rocks. Scissors.
I lost.
Best two out of three.
I still lost.
Off I went into the dark, windy night, wearing my new white winter coat with the fur trimmed hood, gifted to me by my sainted mother. The fabric has a little sheen to it. Wearing it makes me feel like a sassy Eskimo.
Chad says don't worry about it, if I were an eskimo, I'd be sassy.
I wonder if Eskimos use Post It Notes?
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