Google has become a way of life. For those of us who spend an ungodly amount of time in front of a computer, Google has become a kind of friend with all the answers. Because it bloody knows everything. Want to know what the number one song was when you were born? The capital of Botswana? The first 75 places of Pi? Google has your arse covered. But just when you find yourself comfortable in this wonderful easy access knowledge, that the answer to your every whimsical query is only a few taps of a keyboard away, this all knowing rug is torn out from beneath your feet.
One random Wednesday around 11.15am, while bemoaning the 45 minutes you need to wait until lunch, you’ll need to think interesting thoughts or you’ll have to get back to work. So your mind starts to wander. Suddenly, a pressing question enters your soul. Not your mind, not your thoughts, but your SOUL. You desperately need to know the answer NOW, you excitedly open up a new browsing window and then the horror hits you. This is not a question you can Google. It’s one of these freaks:
1. You remember that guy from high school who had the weird nickname? How did he get that nickname anyway? Surely there’s an interesting sex story here?
2. Why did I have that last glass of wine last night? Whose idea was it?
3. What the hell is my PIN anyway? Is the 7 before the 5 or….
4. What’s the name of that song I have stuck in my head? I’ve only heard it twice, but it’s so hard to understand that I don’t know any of the lyrics. Help me. There’s a bit in the middle that goes Doooooooo Da Da Ba Da Doooooooooooooooooooooo! I didn’t think to Shazam it because I didn’t know it would be this important in the near future.
5. Where did I leave my oyster card? Did I put it in my pocket or my bag? What the hell did I wear yesterday? Is my card in the washing machine? Is that safe?
6. What was the date of my last period? (Who in the hell knows this anyway?! I mean, what’s the date today?!)
7. What really happened at that weird party my neighbour threw when I was ten and I was pretending to be a spy because I’d just seen Harriet the Spy and he was realistically the only person I could spy on without leaving my backyard? (Looking back there were many more attractive girls than guys attending and he was not rich, witty or attractive. I was probably on to something).
8. Have I just lost a filling or is this pheasant full of shot? Can I pick this out of my mouth and examine the situation without people noticing?
9. What’s that cat thinking? Is he thinking about me? Is it complimentary?
10. Will I ever want to wear this again? Because I definitely want to wear stuff I already threw out….