Sibling Pressures and Global Logistics

A quick return, Socket Seekers.

My brother is in town and he doesn't know I have been writing, but the way I have been talking to people has shifted. People are noticing, I think it's the way I describe things or something. They start talking and I start thinking about apples suspended in sugar-infused goo that is wrapped in a flaky crust.

I am both dreading and excited to see him. Usually, he borrows my car when he is in town. I let him drive my Mustang, which you would think is a pretty great deal. But instead of enjoying the car, he decided to weigh in on my interior design choices. Specifically, the 10-foot USB cables I keep in there.

He asked if I was trying to charge my phone from the moon.

I told him the wire didn't bother me, but apparently, according to him, the giant bundle of cord is "annoying when other people are in the car." I asked him why on earth I would let other people in the car. He is one of those weird types that likes people. I think I am adopted, or he was dropped on his head a lot. But because sibling peer pressure is a powerful drug, I folded. I bought 3-foot USB cables from Amazon. But I am going to hide them in the car. Then, when he complains, I will reach in and say, "They're right here, why didn't you use them?"

I also had to deal with Amazon delivery drivers delivering my packages to Australia instead of my apartment. I really need my USB cables so my brother quits making valid points. So, I complained like a total Karen that I want a new delivery driver if they can't manage to read the address—and the globe. I was such a whiny Karen that they gave me a $20 credit and a full refund. So, I guess being a terrible person worked out.

Honestly, I had to do it. I don't want to play "Where's Waldo" with my neighbors just to find my package of canned sausage gravy. They really don't need to know that I eat sausage-flavored goo out of a can that is between me and my very angry colon.

Useless Recap:

• Ten-foot USB cables are a perfectly reasonable logistical choice for lunar data transfer.
• My brother is a bizarre specimen who actively enjoys the company of the general public.
• Sibling peer pressure is an extremely potent, Amazon-dependent drug.
• Canned sausage gravy is a private matter between myself, the postal service, and my furious colon.

Disclaimer: Amazon logistics did not authorize the relocation of my breakfast supplies to the Southern Hemisphere. Please don't sue me, Jeff Bezos; I cannot afford legal representation and my neighbor's yard is already a hostile environment to navigate during package recovery missions.