My doctor has me wearing a monitor for a few days. I tell you that only because the thing has a bad habit of beeping if I turn the wrong way or if it gets in the wrong mood.
It is the latest in a long line of electronics that has invaded my life in recent years, all of which have their own language and all of which, in one form or another, beep at me.
Most days start with the beep-beep-beep of an alarm clock.
My electric razor cheerfully beeps a fully-charged good morning to me as well.
Then there’s the coffee pot and the microwave chiming in that breakfast is ready.
Wait a minute, I think I hear a voice mail coming in on my cell phone.
At work the computers beep when a news alert is coming in.
The fax machine beeps when a message is coming in.
And the newsroom buzzes when the boss is coming in.
But I digress.
The other day I pulled away from the curb and all beeping heck broke loose. I nearly crashed checking to see if my monitor was charged.
It was.
Maybe my cell phone was going off.
It wasn’t.
Turns out one of my kids didn’t shut one of the back seat doors completely.
Even the Jeep beeps at me.
It beeps if the doors are ajar. It beeps if the gas gets too low in the tank. It even beeps if it’s time to get my oil checked.
I’m not kidding. My life lately has been beepin’ ridiculous.