Speed Test Dot Net

Yes, it really is a website. This day has been, hmm, let's just say "messy." I feel that someday we will all have jacks implanted in our brains, for linking to computers or even other people, and when that day comes, maybe "speedtest" can help me know which days to just safely stay in bed, like today, for example. I'm not sure where things seemed to get out of hand, though I did get a couple of troublesome and tricky nests of plug-ins and wires and such redone and they do look much better.

Maybe it was when I noticed my TracPhone chirping at me to be recharged, and when I confidently went to the two places I always kept the charger plugged in and ready, I found that it had become lodged in the middle of Nowhere. That means I lost it without a clue.

Nowhere is a great, malicous and evil entity who dogs my every step. It eats things. Needless to say, (so why did I say it?), I hate Nowhere, my very own Grendle, if you like Beowulf. It sneaks in and slays all sense of order I thought I had, and looking for things makes me insane. Nowhere usually just takes a sock or two from someone's laundry, and feeds on small things like pens and pencils, or the homework assignments of small children. But then it strikes gold in people like me and mines them for every paperclip, book, diary, tool, office supply item, piece of jewelry, (it prefers the most valuable in either dollars or meaning). I work daily to slay it, but then I find it has fed again, in some campaign to destroy all sense of order and control in my life. Where did it go? That's no helpful question for me, because I KNOW where it went and I am the more tortured the more I look.

Nowhere. That's both where it went and how it got there. I spend whole days erecting my castle walls for defense, organizing, counting, sorting. I stopped buying socks as other people do. I wait for sales on black socks in big packages, then I buy them and put them away. I do the same for white socks. When my current supply of identical socks runs low due to their age and condition (I throw out "bad" socks), I then gather them all up and give them away or throw them away and fill my dresser drawer with the fresh ones I bought. No mismatched socks, ever, and if one sock gets ruined and the other is good, I just throw out the bad one. I'm sure that Nowhere eats a few, but such a low challenge-level probably isn't very tasty. After all, it is actually human pain and suffering he thrives on.

At least Don Quixote had his windmills. Me? I get Nowhere. Fast. If I lived like Ghandi and had but one possession, I'm sure I would lose it, and I'd know exactly where it would be, happy as a clam in the belly of....well, irretreivably turned into anti-matter, dark energy, quarks and quirks and quicksand, swallowed and digested, given over to entropy.

Until Speed Test Dot Net can give me my prospects for the day, I'm going back to bed.