Texting.  What an ingenious bit of technology.  While some people think it is for the young folk (Mom), we middle-aged people (yes, Jonathan, I still consider myself middle-aged and unless you want to be considered middle-aged, you better think of me that way, too) use it, too.  I do use it differently, though.  The young use their thumbs, type 90 miles an hour, use multiple abbreviations, and ignore the state laws banning it while driving (Jill).  I use my pointer finger with the rest of my fingers up in the air.  (I admit, that may be a girly thing and my middle-aged male peers may not type that way.)  I’m not that fast, rarely use abbreviations (I like proper spelling and punctuation) and try desperately not to look at incoming texts while driving.

I received a text yesterday from an unknown number.  It said Dude it’s me Alex where u at? My friend, Ginny, has a son named Alex, so at first I thought he may have sent it to me by mistake.  But it was an Atlanta number, so I knew it was just a wrong number.  About five minutes later, I get Dude u there? So I decide to respond with Dude….ya got the wrong number!   Five minutes later, r u joking.  I say Nope….I’m an old lady living in Tennessee.  Sorry!  Never heard from Alex again.  You would think I would have gotten a Sorry for bothering you, ma’am or some abbreviated version of that!

By the way, this patience thing is wearing thin.  My closing got postponed for the fifth time!  Sigh…..