Funny story. At some point, probably around 2008 or so, I began saving the plastic bottle caps from the Diet Mountain Dews I was consuming during the day at work. I don’t drink coffee (at all; ever). I get my caffeine via the DMD (which actually isn’t anywhere near what you find in coffee).
Anyway, channeling ancient college dorm protocol, I began building a pyramid of bottle caps on an unused area of my desk. It was mildly interesting to watch it grow and to try to stack them (wish I’d taken a picture). The color of the caps changes when they’re running some kind of promo, so my pyramid had some color variety.
The problem was I couldn’t stop. Once I started saving the bottle caps, I developed some kind of compulsion to see how big the collection would get…
Another quickie today (makes a nice break, right?), mostly just dropping by to show you my (work in progress) TARDIS. I think you’ll agree it’s looking a lot better than it did yesterday. I’ll show you that in a moment, but I have a mildly amusing story to relate first.
At least I find it mildly amusing, but then I find it mildly amusing that my fingers insist on typing “amuzing” every… single… time. One of my mental block words apparently (or a sign of encroaching senility). It (by which I mean the story, not my spelling) reminded slightly me of a similar story.
A time when I participated in events that led to Blast Damage!
Funny how people use “quantum leap” to mean a large jump. In reality, a quantum leap — a real one, not a Scott Bakula one — is a tiny thing. A very tiny thing. Think decimal point, 33 bagels and a number. Tiny. Tiny beyond belief (or unbelief, for that matter).
It does mean jumping to a new level very different from the old.