THE WORM DIDN’T TURN, BUT IT WAS DEFINITELY MOVING

I Almost Swallowed a Worm

It’s not the worm that worries me, it’s where I found it

I couldn’t even stand to post a picture of a worm (Photo by BoliviaInteligente on Unsplash)

I haven’t been writing much lately (I say with an incredible degree of self-involvement as if anybody gives a crap). Work has been slamming me up against a wall and then tap-dancing on my head.

First, I networked a new computer for my boss (the same boss who said “WHY CAN’T I GOOGLE NOW? IT’S ALWAYS TAKING ME TO BING!” and I had to walk into his office and point to GOOGLE on the screen. “Oh,” he said.)

Then, he didn’t like the way Internet Explorer looked.

“Here’s Bill Gates’ phone number,” I said. “Call him.”

The other factor at work is the enormous, enormous number of cases that are nothing but angry baby-daddies and angry baby-mammas spending all of their aging parents’ money to fight over the bay-bays.

Thirty years ago, it wasn’t like this. I worked for divorce lawyers. Divorce, where you get a piece of each other’s assets and have something to show — even if it’s mere crumbs — for all the years you spent being in the same bed with someone when they farted.

Now it’s just young women trying to keep their ex-boyfriends away from the kids because…