|This is quite possibly the most bizarre image I've ever found on a Google search. (Source.)|
Sunday night, Jenn asked me if I'd ever considered telling people that my name "Rhymes With Quandary," rather than "Laundry." The answer is yes, but I don't want to confuse people even more, so... no.
(Related: This weekend, some guy -- whose name I can't remember. It was either Trevor or Travis. -- asked me what my name was. It went down as usual.
I said, "Yándary."
He said, "What?"
I said, "Yawn-dree? Rhymes with Laundry?"
He said, "Can I call you Yolanda?"
And then I punched him in the nose, immediately forgot HIS name and said, "Can I call you Steve?"
That's what I wanted to do. I said, "No," and possibly rolled my eyes (I honestly can't remember, but, well, it's very likely.). And I mentally checked out of that conversation right then and there.
Speaking of quandaries (which IS the title of this post, after all), why is it that when I have the most to get done, it's the easiest for me to get distracted and the most difficult for me to focus on something longer than the first two sentences of an article? (Two sentences! Not even the whole first paragraph! Whatever. Summer semester is almost over.)
I don't think I'll ever know.