While looking over some of next year's dates in Google Calendar, I spotted my own birthday, which I have set up as a recurring event. Out of morbid curiosity, I started clicking forward through time, month by month, mentally calculating my age as the years flew by. 2020...2021...2022...2032...2042...2058...2067 (Canada's bicentennial; I'll be 98)...2075...2080...2090...until, finally, 2099, the last time my birthday recurs. Should I actually live that long, I'll be 130 years old.
Even though it's likely I'll die decades before 2099, I was still mildly irked that Google Calendar arbitrarily chose to stop marking my birthdays before 2100. It felt a little like the opposite of a bullet with my name on it. "No point in noting his birthday anymore; surely he'll be toast by then." Thanks, Google! I mean, you're probably right, but it still feels a little harsh. I was really hoping to see the 22nd century.
Even though it's likely I'll die decades before 2099, I was still mildly irked that Google Calendar arbitrarily chose to stop marking my birthdays before 2100. It felt a little like the opposite of a bullet with my name on it. "No point in noting his birthday anymore; surely he'll be toast by then." Thanks, Google! I mean, you're probably right, but it still feels a little harsh. I was really hoping to see the 22nd century.
Or perhaps Google thinks that it won't be there that long?
ReplyDeleteThat's a more optimistic take, at least from my point of view. I'll take it!
ReplyDelete