Hub & I have been looking for a new bed. Our current mattress is full-size. It’s perfect for one person to flop smack dab into the middle of and spread out. It is not, however, perfect for two people to flop onto and spread out … and be joined by two incredibly spoiled royal poochies.
Let me just put it this way: I’ve been sleeping in the guest room lately because two adults and two dogs on a full-size bed do not make for a restful night’s sleep.
I know what you’re thinking: “keep the dogs off the bed.”
Did I mention that they are INCREDIBLY spoiled?
I had been hearing about a mattress size called, “California king.” Queen Mum & Dad bought me a “California twin” waterbed when I was in high school and it was huge. I, being the cerebral genius that I am, extrapolated this information to mean that a “California king” would be huge as well.
I was right. (as if there would be any doubt)
So I found a couple of mattresses on the website of a new store that will soon be opening down the interstate from us and copied the link into an e-mail to send to Hub.
Being a cerebral genius has it’s disadvantages. I didn’t realize that when I had clicked the mouse to insert the link that I had moved my cursor up into the subject line of the e-mail. All I knew was that nothing appeared in the text box where I expected to see a link.
So I clicked again.
And sent the e-mail.
I have this habit of testing links I send to folks after I send the e-mail. This morning was no different. You would think that a cerebral genius of my calibre would test links BEFORE sending, but no, being a cerebral genius does not mean I have any common sense.
In my haste to correct my mistake, I attempted to resend the e-mail to Hub.
And just like the idiot in the commercial that sticks his chewed up wad of gum into the leak on the reservoir wall, I made the situation worse.
Hub’s name and a very good friend of mine both have names that begin with “C,” In fact, they are the only two names in my address book under first names beginning with “C.” (I know, I have no life.) I let the autofill complete the address, I proofed the textbox and subject line and, in the process of completing my task, I realized the distance between cerebral genius and moron is directly related to the span of time it takes to hit the send button.
I sent the e-mail to. the. wrong. person.
My friend, whom I love and adore, is now the proud recipient of the “sweet nothings” I had written to my husband.
I really wish I had started this adventure from my work e-mail. The system we use has an “unsend” feature that allows me to grab mail back from the ethosphere whenever I notice a mistake or simply need to revise information previously sent. Some of my colleagues call it the “do over” icon.
I have a better name for it. The “click me quick before you lose all credibility, you moron” button.