After a telephone meeting earlier this week, I received this e-mail from my publisher:
I was asked to send you the link to download Skype (not that you wouldn’t be able to find it on your own, but here it is): https://login.skype.com/account/signup-form?application=download&return_url=http://www.skype.com/go/downloading-page&intcmp=join. It would be great if you could sign up for an account. And we could see you on video, to make sure you’re not rolling your eyes while we’re talking. (Just kidding, we don’t normally use video. But if we wanted to see what you’re wearing, we could!)
Well, let’s not even talk about what I’m wearing some days and just hope Google Earth isn’t looking into my living room window. But here’s a bigger problem. During the impromptu telephone meeting, I was frantically scribbling revision notes and forgot to take the chocolate chip cookies out of the oven, which caused some silent cursing and oven mitt waving. AND, as soon as I answered the phone and appeared distracted for oh… a nanosecond… my son decided that it would be a good time to pull out the splatter paint kit from Christmas and do some self-supervised painting in the kitchen.
Whenever I complain about something like this to my mom, she says, “Oh, you’re just lucky you have cordless phones nowadays.” Yes. It’s true that it would be more difficult to control splatter painting had I been attached to the wall by my ear. But… Skype? I’m just not sure how this cookie-crisping, splatter-paint controlling, revision-scribbling fashion nightmare would go, should it be broadcast live over the internet.
I think I’ll just go outside naked and wait for the satellite to spot me.