This week and probably next week, I will be getting by without my laptop computer power supply.
Last week and the week before that, I got by without my cellular telephone.
The week or two before that I got by without my cellular telephone battery charger and received the last call that I needed to take an hour or so before all of the usable energy was drained from the battery.
Aside from the observation that I seem to be getting very good at forgetting about various things and leaving them at my parent's home in Monroe, I have also observed that getting by without things that I am used to having is an interesting mental excersize for me because it forces me to come up with new solutions to my problems which require equipment.
I suppose that the most outstanding example of this from my own life would be last year from June to December when I had decided to do without my car because I had just wrecked it. After all, work was less than four miles away from home and I really didn't need my car at Washington State University. So for a while, I just walked to work and back, but then I discovered a bicycle that my dad had purchased at a garage sale for $5. This bicycle was in pretty lame shape, but it sure made getting to work quicker and easier than walking did. I had a great time while rolling it down the bumpy hill driving it really fast. One Sunday I pedalled it to Woodinville and back (40 miles round trip). I was amazed by how a bicycle could add efficiency to my transportation system through the conservation of linear momentum so that it made up for it's own weight, even when being pedalled uphill. My dad told me that I would be suprised at the increased efficiency that could be bestowed upon me by a bicycle that fit me and was in good condition. I don't know if I will ever get around to finding out about that though.
Oh well, this week I am having a great time getting plenty of sleep and reading the Bible because I am not busy playing video games and watching DVDs from the local library. You should try it sometime.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Funniness
One of my readers told me Sunday morning that my last posting was funny and that his reaction to it prompted a reaction from those around him so that he had to explain his own. I then remembered how my friend Brandon always (often) says that some of my funniest moments come about when I am not trying to be funny. Come to think of it, I think that Paul Adams said that too. Perhaps they are right. I didn't build this blog in attempt to be funny, but it seems to have turned out that way. So in an effort to avoid continuing as the laughing stock of my friends and acquaintances, I will type out this next story which I think is funny, but maybe you will all think that it is profound and take me seriously:
On Wednesday, I failed to look carefully at a topographical map and determined that I needed to go to the field to perform a downstream analysis. This means that I needed to go observe the drainage path of stormwater from a particular peice of land to Port Orchard. If I had looked carefully at the topographical map, I would have seen that the peice of land was quite near a closed depression, even though it is also quite near Port Orchard and I would avoided much trouble and spared the expenditure of some company money. At least it was on my way home.
I got out there to about the place where the land was and started following the ditch adjacent to it. In as much as I did not realize that I was in a closed depression, I was having a hard time deciding how that water in the wetlands several hundred feet downstream from the land was to cross the road. I don't always feel good when I realize that my thoughts are disconnected from the way that things are. I did find several catch basins which I opened and looked into, but they seemed to be draining in the wrong direction.
I had left the catch basin opening tool at the office, foolishly not thinking that I would need it because I had anticipated open ditches, so I was using my bare hands to do the job and I was gettin them all dirty. This was all very well and good for the type 30 catch basins, but then I ran across a type 1 or type 2 catch basin which had a 48" lid and which I thought was for a sewer, but it did say "drain" on it, so I decided to open it.
It had only three small round holes in it near the rim, about ninety degrees apart. I tried to open it with my index fingers, but I had to use my middle fingers to get it off. I looked down into it to make my observation and was careful not to fall in because I was all by myself. When I put the lid back on, I used my index fingers again and carefully lowered the cover back into place on the frame, with the tip of my left index finger smashed between the manhole cover and the frame upon which it was to rest. I tried to lift that end up again, but I was unable. Some people had just walked by, so I asked for their help, but they were really unhelpful. They were about to try something that didn't seem to be very smart to me and that I thought would inflict futher damage upon my poor finger, when I managed to yank my finger out. My finger still has several blood blisters in it and some of its nerves do not seem to be working quite right.
So there is my funny story. Everyone and my place of employment had a good laugh over it and it caused my boss to remember several other stories involving similar situations.
To me, the most interesting part was wondering what sort of people were going respond to me after I called for help. I wonder if you ever thought that Jesus would smash you if you asked Him for help. I wonder if you thought that asking Jesus for help would be useless because you have always seen Him pictured as a wimp without capabilities.
Oh well. I am quite glad to be unstuck.
On Wednesday, I failed to look carefully at a topographical map and determined that I needed to go to the field to perform a downstream analysis. This means that I needed to go observe the drainage path of stormwater from a particular peice of land to Port Orchard. If I had looked carefully at the topographical map, I would have seen that the peice of land was quite near a closed depression, even though it is also quite near Port Orchard and I would avoided much trouble and spared the expenditure of some company money. At least it was on my way home.
I got out there to about the place where the land was and started following the ditch adjacent to it. In as much as I did not realize that I was in a closed depression, I was having a hard time deciding how that water in the wetlands several hundred feet downstream from the land was to cross the road. I don't always feel good when I realize that my thoughts are disconnected from the way that things are. I did find several catch basins which I opened and looked into, but they seemed to be draining in the wrong direction.
I had left the catch basin opening tool at the office, foolishly not thinking that I would need it because I had anticipated open ditches, so I was using my bare hands to do the job and I was gettin them all dirty. This was all very well and good for the type 30 catch basins, but then I ran across a type 1 or type 2 catch basin which had a 48" lid and which I thought was for a sewer, but it did say "drain" on it, so I decided to open it.
It had only three small round holes in it near the rim, about ninety degrees apart. I tried to open it with my index fingers, but I had to use my middle fingers to get it off. I looked down into it to make my observation and was careful not to fall in because I was all by myself. When I put the lid back on, I used my index fingers again and carefully lowered the cover back into place on the frame, with the tip of my left index finger smashed between the manhole cover and the frame upon which it was to rest. I tried to lift that end up again, but I was unable. Some people had just walked by, so I asked for their help, but they were really unhelpful. They were about to try something that didn't seem to be very smart to me and that I thought would inflict futher damage upon my poor finger, when I managed to yank my finger out. My finger still has several blood blisters in it and some of its nerves do not seem to be working quite right.
So there is my funny story. Everyone and my place of employment had a good laugh over it and it caused my boss to remember several other stories involving similar situations.
To me, the most interesting part was wondering what sort of people were going respond to me after I called for help. I wonder if you ever thought that Jesus would smash you if you asked Him for help. I wonder if you thought that asking Jesus for help would be useless because you have always seen Him pictured as a wimp without capabilities.
Oh well. I am quite glad to be unstuck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
