It’s a rainy day and, lacking anything to do but write, clean closets, organize kitchen drawers, return phone calls, write a dozen or more thank-you notes, groom animals, bathe, brush teeth (seriously, I need to, and have not done all these things and more today) I have started a Twitter hashtag called #twittoir. If you’re not into Twitter, I understand. You are a person with a job. I get it. A hashtag just collects all tweets that follow a certain thread. SO the idea of this thread is to write the story of your life in 140 characters or less. You can see my submissions on lower right corner of this screen, and you can go on Twitter to see the submissions of others. But I thought, if you’d care to, you can submit your own micro-memoirs here. In the comments.
I’ll start with one that I submitted:
You’re invited. Bring your husband.
So tell us a little about yourselves. But keep it short. 140 characters or less.
My tweet:
Late Bloomer (still waiting) and Way Homer (usually figure things out and finally get the joke in my car on the way home.)
P.S. I do actually have a job, but much like your teeth brushing procrastination I’m finding all kinds of dust and crap in my office that must be dealt with now…instead of doing my real job. Is it Friday yet??
Way Homer! Me too. Also, the witty retort usually springs to my mind three days after somebody says something insulting to me. Then I say it back to the person over and over again. In my mind. But sometimes my lips move. And there have been times the kids have observed this. Their Twittoir:
Therapy really can’t heal wounds this deep.
Oh yeah, I’m a master retorter…days later, much calmer and miles away from the retortee. (Love the kids’ Twittoir.)
Here’s one more for me and then I really must get back to work or my next Twittoir will be…”I had a good job.”
“I have generalized anxiety disorder? I thought I was just shy, but if there’s a pill…”
Cat, there is a cure for GAD – Three mojitos, followed by two tequila chasers.
Wish I could Twittoir from the office, but the damn geeks have blocked us from having fun.
Catherine that’s funny. I have a friend who actually says, with a complete straight face, “I have been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder.”
I can’t bear to break it to her that so has everybody who has ever been to a shrink. It’s just that insurance companies don’t reimburse for the diagnosis: General Human Condition
Aislinn, your workplace sounds like something right out of a Dickens novel. Do they allow you a crust of bread and some broth at least?
My tweet:
out of work, looking for a job. Feel like that country song: my phone still ain’t ringin’, must still not be you(potential employer). Very weird not to have a job, I have worked since highschool.
p.s. I think “way homer” is the funniest thing I have heard in a while, thanks for the laugh.
Grateful: I have a job, husband back at work, dog loves us, it is fall, it is not snowing yet (Minnesota)
14 prattling attorneys, 2 bitter secretaries, 5 snooty paralegals and a staggering amount of wasted paper and egos. My ridiculous worklife in 134 characters.
My Twittoir: work in a sweatshop. they took away the flavored coffee and pinatas. We need a union.
General Human Condition. Love that Ann.
Ais, I’m cracking up over your sweatshop. I’m actually missing my high pressure corporate job today. This never happened there: It’s been hot here, so I have a fan going on the other side of my office. One of our residents needed me to notarize something. As I was stamping the document I heard the unmistakable sound of gas passing. The fumes, upon exit, then sort of ricocheted off the fan…only to be blown back in my face. Working with the elderly is a mixed bag, I tell ya. I couldn’t decide how to react. The fact that his zipper was also down threw me off.
My Twittoir : It’s a great life: hubby I love for 35 years,a daughter I’m so proud of,family and friends,and a teaching job I can’t wait to get to each and every wonderful day!
And Ann……I’ll be there with my flip cam on Monday night!! Cynthia and I are sooooo excited !!!!!!!!!!!
Catherine, it didn’t gross me out until the zipper part. Really, really gross. And funny
Barbara and Cynthia you are very kind. Still have no idea what I will be doing
Ann, don’t worry the turtle stayed in its shell. It was an awkward situation though, as this man speaks only Chinese and his adult daughter was on my speaker phone translating. Since I can’t say “Your fly is down” in Chinese, and I didn’t want to pull the daughter into the loop and embarrass him, I just went with the flow. They didn’t teach me this stuff in my accounting classes in college, that’s for sure – ha.
Barb and Cyn, I’m glad you will be at Ann’s event to represent for all of us who are too far away to go. And you’re both just really great gals. The end.
Cat, I was about to sit down to a plate of Teriaki Chicken. Lost my appetite.
Maybe Mr. Gassy Ass isn’t used to Western cuisine. It might be time to modify the menu. Put that on your To Do list, will ya.
Ann, I wanted to head down to NYC with Cyn on Monday night, but I have a fancy black tie Coast Guard Award dinner in NY the following night. I need to prep. Last year, which was my first time attending, I mistakenly asked a high-ranking Coastguardsman to take away my plate of sushi. I thought he was a waiter. How’s that for a twittoir.
Ais, laughing out loud at my desk.
(Your post called for the dreaded creepy smiley face.)
Good night gang…heading home from work to go face down into some spaghetti!
Here’s my twittoir:
Shrink who struggles to fit the General Human Condition into the “Medical Model.” Damned third party payors.
Loved your Twittoir Sandra!
You girls crack me up!!
Aislinn, I’m going to steal your “Mr. Gassy Ass” moniker. I hope you don’t mind, but it’s too good not to.
Catherine, at the risk of embarrassing my 99-year-old grandpa, he too sits around all day with his fly down. But he does so on purpose. When I discretely try to tell him to zip up, he brazenly tells me to mind my own business. Apparently, he keeps his fly down because it’s easier for him to run to the bathroom (as only his 99-year-old body will carry him) and relieve himself with half of the process and fumbling out of the way.
Barbara and Cyn, have a great time on Monday!! Wish I could join you, but I’m going to be spying on Aislinn, watching to see which general she asks to pull out her chair and fetch her a drink.
Ann, if words fail you on Monday, which I’m sure they won’t, but if they do, maybe you could do an interpretive dance, highlighting another one of your talents.
Oh Catherine and Aislinn, I spit out my second cupcake. Very funny stuff.
Born to war of the roses parents.UK. Lived all over the world always for men. try to hide from said parents. 50th anniversary for them soon. I hide in the states. they follow me. the end.
My twittoir; “Did I really say that? No!! Oh crap, I did. Sorry.”
Hi all,
I am cooling my heels at home, doing mild housing cleaning. Cousin brought a gorgeus arrangement of roses, orchids, and lilies. My father did not bring me anything, but a large check, for me to buy things that would improve my health – he means so well. He’ll leave it to someone else do the shopping.
Candy, I am glad you are out of the toxic workplace where you felt the boss was going to kill you. I was uncomfortable, thinking you had good reason to feel that way.
Aislynn, flavored coffee gone?! The pricks.
Ann, I often come up with a clever retort days after the fact. The tweet: There’s no therapy for such deep wounds is hilarious.
Gloria
Gloria, Glad to see you’re up and around. Spend that extra cash on something special.
Yeah, the flavored coffee may be gone, but I snagged a few Sharpies from the mailroom. Ha! That’ll teach ‘em.
My twittoir: 51 year old broad with the eating habits of a 4 year old…I just wolfed down 2 yodels…mmm, chocolate.
Sorry for double posting (don’t want to be a blog hog),but I want to send good thoughts to Gloria. Also want to wish Ann luck on Monday.
Worked as a somebody and a nobody, most @ home in the woods, a most excellent rock sitter… alas, no pay there.
I-talian Catholic Buddhist. Wants the world to be careful with one another. Enjoy family and friends with wine and food. Life=beautiful
wife, friend, lover, “big sister”, daughter, makeup artist, skincare therapist, waxologist, marketing rep for wellness company, and VERY optimistic 99% of the time.
Went to Ireland after winning a beauty contest in Brooklyn in 88′. Met a funny Irish guy named Joe and went back and married him in 96′. Had my son, Sean, on St Patrick’s Day and my wild Irish Rosie followed in 2000. Hot in South Florida, surrounded by pets, chaos and laughter. Every morning I have a cup of “coffee flavored coffee” and smile and think about you and Denis.
Oh, and I can’t count. English major; you do the math.
Love this post, Ann, and the idea of the “twittoir”! The comments are great. The “mini memoirs” are fun and interesting to read, like biographical haikus.
Catherine, I love how you describe yourself as a “Way Homer,” getting the joke and thinking of witty responses afterward, on the way home. That’s excellent! The French have a term for that, which I’ve always loved: l’esprit de l’escalier, or “wit of the staircase,” as in when you’re leaving a party and think of a witty remark or comeback to some part of the conversation too late, when it’s no longer useful.
But now I like way homer even better.