Advantage of Foresight

You’ve been granted the power to predict the future! The catch — each time you use your power, it costs you one day (as in, you’ll live one day less). How would you use this power, it at all?

“See how that guy cut me off? I knew he was going to do that.”

“Oh look over there, she’s going to get on that bus. I knew she was going to do that.”

Ever since Tim discovered his ability to see future events, his wife had been hearing a cascade of “I knew that” comments. The ability wasn’t that impressive. It was limited to seconds or minutes at best and each time he did it he flinched a little. She was growing concerned.

It started at the carnival when he played with that stupid Zoltar machine. The next day he was full of “I told you so” and “Knew it” phrases. He said he’d transported back into his 12-year old body and relived his life. Everything he’d experienced the first time around seemed to happen again exactly as before, at least according to him. She didn’t notice much change. He’d always been an arrogant blowhard with an annoying superiority complex. Now he simply began taking credit for observing the obvious.

She knew the lady was waiting for the bus. She was standing at a bus stop when the bus pulled up. The guy who “cut them off” had his turn signal on to change lanes long before moving over. Tim’s constant claim to have known it in advance and take credit for it made her want to kill him. She began plotting ways to make him disappear…

I see it clearly now

She Doesn’t Want My Job, I Don’t Want Hers

Nightmare Job

In honor of Labor Day in North America, tell us what’s the one job you could never imagine yourself doing.

We have the day off in the U.S. today. Why? In celebration of all the hard work done by the labor force. What better way to commemorate hard work by taking a national day off? Seem odd to anyone else? Oh well. To the daily prompt…

As I read the prompt aloud to my wife, she promptly responded, “Yours.”

My normal day job involves lots of reading, editing, writing, revising, formatting, and sometimes spreadsheets. All computer based work. Eight hours a day or more spent at monitors working to merge and refine documents to help win government contracts for the company. Then I come home and log on to WordPress and blog, or write stories as a creative outlet. She cannot dream of doing that.

She is a creative person, but in a more tangible, hands-on way. Crafts, arts, games, lively interaction with family and friends are more her style. She paints, sculpts, does mosaics, woodwork, and generally makes our home more beautiful all around.

I can’t see doing what she does. My tolerance for the works in process is low. I look forward to the finished product and the intermediate steps cause me frustration. I have a vision in mind for the final craft, but struggle to make it appear. She constructs with ease and almost uncanny adaptability.

Her approach: That side is crooked? Zing, bang, twist, and boom, it’s perfect, while mine collapses into a haphazard pile of unrecoverable rubble on the table. One arm sweep into the trash is all that can be hoped.

Her day job involves crawling on the floor with preschoolers. Again, not for me.

In contrast, writing comes easily to me. She hates it. I enjoy stringing together the words to conjure images and carry the reader along for my brief tales. Storytelling is part of me. She says it stems from my overconfidence and natural lying ability. I say it was honed as a defensive need in the environment of multiple siblings both older and younger. Distraction and deflection equaled safety.

Deadlines Drive the Day

The delivery date approaches. What seemed so far off one month ago now feels like it accelerated as it approached. Our perception of time is so skewed.

English paper due by the end of the semester? No problem. That is so far off, I have plenty of time (to procrastinate).

Wait, what do you mean it’s due next week? Where did the nine weeks go? There couldn’t have been that many days elapsed since the last time I thought about it. I’m pretty sure I only saw five sunrises, and three sunsets. See? Only a few days have passed.

Oh yeah. I’ve been up before dawn, arriving at work in the dark. Spending all day indoors. Working late on multiple projects. Leaving work after dark. Dark to dark. No days to mark.

How could this get worse? I know. I’ll mentally commit to participating in regular blog posting and responding to several daily prompts each week? No pressure. What could go wrong?

After all, it’s only after 9:30 p.m. (eastern US) now and I’m finally responding to the morning prompt…

New Dawn

How often do you get to (or have to) be awake for sunrise? Tell us about what happened the last time you were up so early (or late…).