Robotic Woman

Hello, I'm a Mac. A MacBook Pro to be exact. Macs have a host of cool features that PCs don't, like the Robotic Woman. Every hour, on the hour, she quietly tells me, "It's 3 o'clock", "It's 4 o'clock" ECT.  At first, I thought she was pleasant, helpful, keeping me on track. Isn't it surprisingly kind that someone would care enough to give me the time and I didn't even have to ask?

Now that the holidays are here, now that I'm so busy with work that I'm drowning in it, now that my eyes are burning at night from exhaustion, she taunts me. "It's 9 o'clock" she just whispered, reminding me that it's getting late, and I'm still editing. "It's 9 o'clock" she calls out, reminding me that I haven't folded the clothes, and that they're quickly wrinkling in the hamper. "It's 9 o'clock" she screams, torturing me with a million things that I intended to do today, but didn't.

Guess what?! It's 9 o'clock and today I dragged my butt out of bed at 6:00am to make myself look decent, I lead worship at two SCC services, went to lunch with my family, cuddled in bed and read with my kids for an hour while the slight drizzle and chilly air kept us inside, finished editing a session, started another one, put in three print orders, picked up the house, called my Grandma June, bathed two wiggly kiddos, read in bed again, and sent my Husband happily off to poker night.

Booya, Robotic Woman.