It Could Never Happen To Me
I’d like to believe I’m beyond this kind of thinking. But I’m not. When it comes to certain situations, I’m stupefied to discover that I am not exempt. For example, I never thought. . .
. . .that I could miss a plane. Recently, I learned otherwise. My shock was profound; my identity challenged. Twice I howled, “Nooooo!” in slow motion, just like in the movies.
I never thought I’d succumb to the treacherous vortex of collective social interaction commonly known as Facebook.
I never thought it possible that I’d date a man more cruelly victimized by technology than I am. (It’s been determined that the only place he can get phone service is standing close to a cell tower in a particular sunflower field in Warren County.)
I never thought I’d have a mad love affair with Chef Boyardee at the outset of menopause.
Never, never did I think that my intolerance for golf carts and musicals would lose their edge.
Never did it occur to me that my feet would dry out at the stroke of midnight on the eve of my fortieth birthday.
Never did I dream I’d lose a game of Bananagrams for spelling “gamut” with an “e.”
I never foresaw that, in my adulthood, the word “toy” would take on whole new meaning.
I never thought I’d refuse to date someone because he didn’t have a cell phone.
I never thought I’d understand what a blog is.
Sometimes I’m still not sure.
What did you think could never happen to you?
More from living