Death by text

I have an Iphone.

She is a smart phone.

My very own Suze Orman.

Smart but annoying.

A smart phone who daily 

makes me look like an idiot.

The autocorrect feature is something

I cannot get used to.

I am a texter.

Big time.

I am always flying around

like my hair is on fire,

therefore I love texting.

No time spent talking on the phone.

I can multi task and get even more done.

Truth be told I would probably

do a better job at everything

if I didn't try to do so many tasks at once.

It could be why I am always

finding things I have half-assed.

Like wiping out the fridge

only to come back in an hour 

to find the bottle of syrup

on it's side with the lid partially open

on  a shelf that is not removeable.

Now that is a lovely surprise.

Especially when you haven't had pancakes in six months.

Even sweeter,

cleaning it all up

only to come back in an hour and step in a puddle of it

you didn't seem to notice. 

But during all the syrup havoc I have 

texted aprox. 23 times.

But I digress.

The moral of the story is autocorrect.

I cannot remember to look at my message before 

I hit send.

I am sending dandy messages.

I told Abbie that

I was a toy train.

I have no idea what I was really wanting to say.

I text "fave" and it says "Dave"

and the receiver wonders who is Dave?

Every time I want to say "do"

the blasted thing says "Di."

Now I did love the Princess but 

I have moved on since her death.

Stuart was putting up the ceiling

on Maggie's new house's porch

one really hot Sunday morning.

I went to church and he texted me 

on  his ancient phone

the one and only text

that he always sends...

the only one he knows how to send...

"how u doing"

I was working in the church coffee shop.

I thought I texted back

"good, working at church."

But instead I texted back

"good, whoring at church"

Nice.

I have re-named my smart phone

Smart-ass phone.

She is killing me

one text at a time.