Like Groucho, I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member, but this one I can no longer avoid.
Yesterday I filled in an Autodesk survey asking me for some feedback on their 3D software and gave them a refreshing fistful of honesty that should help dampen their hapless spirits as much as their software dampens mine.
Their revenge came with the little line of boxes asking for my age. I happily and honestly ticked the one that said 45-54.
Today, however, I am acutely aware that I can now only tick the '55 and over' box. The last box in the line. There's nowhere to go from here; no more boxes to fill except the wooden one.
And so - miserable and pouting - I join the Last Box Club.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck.
9 comments:
Ha ha Happy Birthday… your young and healthy enjoy it…
Happy Birthday, you old decrepit codger.
Could it be just the prejudice of the software developers, not expecting anyone over the age of tyro-whiz 14 to be able to effectively use their product? Give them an earful (eyeful?) about that!
Cum'on over here, where they put a couple additional boxes on forms.
Happy birthday, Dive. Stop complaining. You'd be surprised how many people are older than you are. Even I fit that category.
Many thanks, folks. I'm off round to Gerry's where we shall enjoy a nice meal and a bottle of Barolo and not mention birthdays once. Yay!
I second your mother's advice. Happy birthday, dear Dive.
Happy birthday -- and welcome to the "last box club" party!
Thank you, Robyn and thank you, Ms.M. So far, fifty-five feels pretty much the same as fifty-four, except slightly more hung over after our Barolo-fest.
Well the last box is technically a wooden box. I'm glad you are not in that one!
Thanks for liking my FB post. I did write about it on my old Negative Space blog. Happy Birthday but I am still 54!
Hee hee, Neetzy. Love the new painting, young lady.
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