Today I got nothing, sweet nothing done. Or at least that's what it feels like. I spent all day getting this new iPhone set up. Woe to me that I don't have an available ninth grader to do it for me. Suffice to say, it's going--I think. And the highlight of it was the Activation call which was with an Apple employee in Nigeria. She had the strangest accent, a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Maybe some New Zealand and maybe some Poland. I couldn't tell. So I asked.
"I'm Black," she said. Which confused me, because if there's any accent I associate with Black, it's Southern--and this was some strange part of the South if that were true.
"Where are you, I asked.
"Africa," she answered.
"Africa! Where?"
"Nigeria."
"Wow!" I'm always at my most articulate when I'm impressed.
I went through a Lou Dobbs time when I was pissed off at the outsourcing of jobs. But I'm over that now, thanks in no small part to Thomas Friedman's, The World Is Flat. And how else am I going to get to talk to and laugh with a lady from Nigeria?
Still, nothing got done today, but the phone, and that leaves me feeling not only frustrated but angry at myself. Why myself? Why not. I live alone; who else do I have to blame?
