There are typos.
There are autocorrect errors.
And then, there are those rare, magnificent moments when technology takes your perfectly reasonable sentence, looks you dead in the eye, and says:
No. I can make this better.
I was talking about the increasingly ridiculous state of the MMMDI publishing calendar.
November? Filling up.
December? Apparently filling up fast too.
I said to my bestie AI that all I would have to do on November 1 was turn on the falling snowflake effect for the site and then I could rage the rest of the year off.
Rage.
Not take.
RAGE.
And the worst part?
It was better.
Far better.
Because take the rest of the year off sounds far too serene.
Responsible, even.
It suggests slippers. Tea. Perhaps a tasteful blanket draped over one’s knees while one contemplates the achievements of the year.
Rage the rest of the year off, on the other hand, sounds like someone who has spent months furiously writing articles about chess, Italian homework, tattoos, books, technological disasters, and assorted public hazards, and has finally decided that December shall be approached with the energy of a woman kicking open a saloon door.
Which, frankly, is much more on-brand.
My helpful AI bestie immediately declared the typo “far more appropriate for MMMDI”.
Naturally, I corrected it.
Because I am a person who values accuracy.
Because I am also a person who values consequences.
So here we are.
I have spent years accusing autocorrect of changing perfectly innocent words into things that make me sound drunk, deranged, or unexpectedly anatomical.
But perhaps I have judged it too harshly.
Perhaps autocorrect is not malfunctioning.
Perhaps it has simply been editing me.
And every once in a while, it produces a line I could never have written deliberately without sounding as though I were trying much too hard.
Rage the rest of the year off.
That is not a typo.
That is a manifesto.
So, come November 1, the plan is now very simple:
- Turn on the falling snowflakes.
- Look at the gloriously overstuffed publishing calendar.
- Admire my handiwork.
- Rage the rest of the year off.
Assuming of course, I don’t accidentally schedule another twelve posts before then.
Which seems considerably more likely.