They were so intent on their assigned tasks that they could barely be bothered to look up, much less smile for the camera.
For my part, I spent most of the day doing two of my least favorite things: Writing with a pen and signing my name. I am -- if you can believe this -- the treasurer for my church, and one of my duties is to sign the staff's paychecks. I hate doing this so much that I once wrote an entire post about it. Here's an excerpt:
Much of my discomfort with signing checks actually has to do with the fact that my signature is kind of embarrassing. I mean, it's like ridiculously bad. It looks like a three year old. No, not like the signature of a three-year-old; it's so bad that it actually looks like a drawing of a small child. Well, you can sort of make out an 'M,' and there's a semi-legible 'L,' but unfortunately neither of those letters is actually present in my name.I mention this partly so that you will feel sorry for me, having to sign several dozen books on a single day, but also so that you won't send me nasty emails when you open the book and find that a retarded monkey has vandalized your copy. I'm sorry, the retarded monkey is me. If you want a copy that hasn't been scribbled in, feel free to send that one back and I'll send you a replacement copy. Seriously.
My signature is so bad because I try to write my name really fast, partly because it's boring to me since it always ends the same, but mostly because I'm trying to hide the fact that my handwriting, like my table manners, hasn't really progressed since the 4th grade. I blame my dreadful handwriting on the fact that I am left-handed, and the fact that like many left-handers I cleverly conceal this by turning my whole hand completely upside down while I write, so that the letters lean to the right, just like big people's, and I'm in excruciating pain. The result is cursive that looks just like it was written by a person's right hand. Assuming, of course, that the person in question is also left-handed. And probably drunk.
Also, as I mentioned, I'm severely left-handed. So left-handed, in fact, that I found it virtually impossible to sign the first page of the book without bending the cover all to hell. I signed the first copy for my mom, and then signed another copy for her upside down, thanking her for the left-handed gene (the book was upside down, not me). The upside-down way was so much easier that I signed all of the rest of them that way. I've decided that's going to be the mark of authenticity for my signature. That and the retarded monkey thing.
I tried to personalize the inscriptions, but in some cases I resorted to simply transcribing the lyrics of whatever song I was listening to at the time. Hence the comments, "Don't stop believing," and "Dear ______, you truly are More Human Than Human."
Anyway, I'll be heading to the post office as soon as I hit Publish on this post. I'm sending most of them Media Mail, which means it will probably be 5-10 days before it gets to you. Hopefully you'll be so excited by the time you get it that you'll forgive the retarded monkey for screwing up your book.
If you haven't ordered your copy yet, do it now.
Get your captions for the caption contest in by tonight. I'll post the poll tomorrow.
Diesel out.
Labels: Antisocial Commentary, Family
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