So, I’m too lazy to make the effort of first – picking up the remote, second – clicking to the weather channel, and third- (the worst part because I’m so impatient), waiting until commercials or whatever are over to see what the forecast will be.
Naturally, I go ahead and ask the lady in my phone instead (which requires only two quick steps of pressing a big round button and using my voicebox):
“Siri, what will the weather be like tommorow?”
Sidebar: And, yes I do still address Siri by name, seeing as (after watching Big Bang Theory) I will foreverimagine her not as some program, but as this:
Quick. Easy. Perfect.
Until she swivels around in her chair and give me this reply:
The Siri Symbolism is prettymuch accurate.
Every day that’s not Saturday feels like… Blegh. And Sunday night is the worst because you’re just anticipating the sound of that awful alarm. You know the one… The one you keep having to change because you fully loathe the jangle of it jarring you out of your super sweet slumber at the ass-crack of dawn? And even though you change it, each ringtone takes on that same hateful association of having to rise and… whine.
Well, you whine for at least for a good fifteen minutes or so, that is, before finally accepting that you’re part of the rat race, getting your ish together, making a cup of coffee (or twelve if you’re me), blah, blah, blah…
The point is… Siri gets it. She just gets it.
xoxo
<3~A