Apologies for the title, there are only so many words that rhyme with 'bucket'.
With Michele and the kids back in the US for the summer, I am, with the exception of a few weeks in August when I will join them for the annual sunburning and sand eating event at the beach in New Jersey, knocking around London on my own.
This annual familial summer migration has in previous years afforded me the opportunity to do touristy things, to go hiking in Scotland and to spend time with various friends in various pubs. This summer, though, I intend to use the time to tackle a somewhat fluid list of chores, errands and pastimes which I've been either too busy or too lazy to undertake with the family around - the list of things whose undertaking I have, throughout the year, momentarily considered before concluding, "anh, fuckit." The list consists of mundane things like cleaning the black gunk out of the washer, learning to play tennis, writing a novel. That sort of stuff.
Today I spent most of the morning getting my iPhone to sync entirely with one computer, rather than partially with two and, as I would be in technology hell anyway, decided that today would be a good day to organize my applications on the phone into folders so I can find them a bit easier. I currently have to scroll through 8 or 9 pages of applications to find the one I want. Occasionally I discover an application that I'd forgotten I bought, neglected and gathering electronic dust in a remote corner of the phone.
Unfortunately, the mechanism Apple provides for moving icons around involves a great deal of dragging while the software helpfully arranges all the other icons around the one you're moving. Placing an icon in a particular spot relative to others is about as easy as arranging a school of live fish in size order.
After an hour of trying to drop icons into folders that skittered away like cockroaches as I approached them, I'd finally gotten everything organized the way I wanted it. And then the software crashed.
Anh, fuckit.
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