07-054

Busy, Busy…Frightfully Busy

Just as I was about to get a handle on my kitchen mold paranoia, someone sends me another phobia-inducing email forward. This one reports two super black holes are on a collision course with one another, each with the capability of sucking up several galaxies, the latest model Hummer, and an assortment of Wal-Mart Super Centers.

I don’t have time to worry about such things. I have plenty to keep me busy, like squelching the dust bunny uprising that threatens to get completely out of control. It was touch and go for a while last week. There were rumors of a junta regime organizing under my desk, but I think I’ve finally rounded up the ringleader. He’s being detained for questioning in the pantry.

Obviously, I have plenty to do besides pondering eventual doom. Why do scientists think I need to know these things? The experts report that such a cataclysmic black hole brouhaha is not likely to occur for another bazillion years (approximately the same amount of time it takes my dentist to do a root canal), so why get everyone all worked up? They insist upon frightening me with reports that I can do nothing about and to be quite honest, I’m tired of it. I would go lie down at this point, but as I’ve mentioned, I’m too busy.

Here’s another one sure to keep me up nights. Seems the earth isn’t spinning as fast as it once was. Must be that extra 40 billion pounds of humanity it put on during the population explosion of the medieval era—you know, the Middle Ages Spread. So the experts have decided to insert a leap second into the official atomic-based time standard every few years. (Just for the record, where would one obtain a leap second? Is there a repository somewhere filled with surplus seconds in tiny cardboard boxes just waiting for their big moment? Or should I say, big second?) Will there be public notification of this so we can all change our clocks? Will the fashionably late finally be on time? Will my VCR stop flashing 8:08? See what I mean? Information like this could make you crazy.

Yes, I have more important things to do than fret about a stray second or two. But if that’s not enough, today I received another email forward with some very disturbing news. The next time I’m traveling down the highway, the sound of the truck behind me may not be a truck at all. Very likely, it could be an elephant. That’s right. According to a new study, (government funded is my bet) it has been determined that elephants have learned to imitate the sound of trucks. I don’t need to know this.

So, the next time I get an email forward, no matter how tempting the subject line may be (Lint Poisoning, The Killer In Your Dryer!), I’m not opening it.

Well, maybe just a peek. But not until I deal with that ringleader in the pantry.

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