For the first time in my life I forgot how old I was. Just now, I was staring my food, spinning about in the microwave. I don’t own a microwave and never have. But I do use them at work since we don’t have a full kitchen. I guess one might say they scare me quite a bit. Which pretty much means I just stare at my food, waiting for it and the microwave to explode and/or kill me. And since I watch my food, I usually stop it on odd numbers, and usually primes. Sometimes, like today, I thought, “I”ll stop my food on 33 seconds in celebration of my age.” And then I realized that that wasn’t my age at all. And then I couldn’t remember what my age really was. And then I forgot to stop my food from spinning.
And then you remembered that 33 isn’t prime, either.
I said odd OR prime. I love my primes. I know my primes. I would marry prime numbers if I could.
You should read “The Man Who Loved Only Numbers” about Paul Erdos. If anyone embodied prime numberness, it was him. But Toby is way cooler.
I purchased that book for Missy years ago but never read it. I should have. Maybe she’ll lend it to me. :]
It was years ago that I started having to do the math when asked how old I am. “Let’s see, two thousand five minus nineteen seventy-eight equals… twenty seven. Yeah, that’s it.”
i’ve been doing that more and more the past few years…..right after 30, you just stop thinking about it i guess(now i have to think, that was 4 1/2 years ago! wow we’re getting old!)