The Life of Riley is a weekly post that details my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.
Sunday (Day 357): 11,000 Visitors
When I got up to check my stats, I had just been brought up after being taken down for 24 hours due to going over my monthly bandwidth limit. I estimate that I missed about 18,000 visitors in that time period, but I don’t blame my host. I agreed to a bandwidth limit when I signed up, and I had gone over it. It was as simple as that. I had never come close to my 100 Gb limit before, so I never thought to check my usage regularly. If I was lucky enough to have this happen again, I told myself that I’d have to keep a better eye on things.
We filled the day with looking for lights and other house stuff, but it seemed like we should’ve been doing something fun because the weather was so nice. I’m starting to think that filling time with errands is the Yankee way.
Monday (Day 358): 16,000 Visitors Today
We got up early because #1GF! wanted to go out for a walk. I’m not much of a walker, but I had nothing planned, so I figured I should go. It was early and cold, so I threw on sweat pants, not thinking that we would be out too long. After a couple of hours of wandering our town, we decided to stop in to a local restaurant to refuel. We sat at the counter, which I like to do at breakfast time, and got a quick meal.
From there, we walked to the house because #1GF! can’t come within a half mile of the place without thinking of some reason to visit it. I don’t like to visit because I always seem to pick out something wrong, but I went anyway. Once she got her fill, we walked on and on, checking out new houses that were being built and trying to imagine what it must be like to live in different locations. After about four hours of this, I was sweating my nuts off, and itching to get home and into some shorts.
As soon as we walked in the door, we picked up a message from some friends who were coming down to the beach and wanted us to go along. We headed down to meet them for a few hours on the sand. The beach was packed thanks to the nice weather, and we had a group of girls next to us who really wanted us to be able to hear the new Madonna CD. As a male, I have the innate ability to ignore almost anything that isn’t shaped like boobs, so tuning out the music wasn’t really a problem for me. But seriously? Madonna? Even I know that Madonna can’t be hip, and you can tell I’m lame by the way I wear my shorts. Dear girls, U R lame.
Anyway. Our friends’ teenage daughter showed up to say hello, and she’s always fun. She’s a nice kid, and I’m not making fun, but the teenage mind is such a foreign experience to me that I almost always end up shaking my head and laughing. My favorite quote from that conversation was that “Girls don’t like boys who write,” which everyone found amusing, considering that’s all I do all day. She may be right. Maybe girls don’t like boys who write. As long as no one tells #1GF! that I write all day, instead of riding around on a motorcycle, things should work out fine.
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