A freakin' 12-gauge, what do you think?

First, let me say, I love technology. Whether it's the ability to take 1,500 pictures on my Sony Cybershot digital camera or listen to several days worth of music on my Creative Zen Micro or check my email using my Sony Vaio from a wi-fi hotspot like Panera Bread (Sony, Creative, and Panera, feel free to send me free stuff in appreciation of those endorsements), I love it.

However, I am getting the distinct impression that technology thinks it knows what I want better than I do.

For instance, MS Word's autoformatting. I'm typing in Ariel, and then all of the sudden it decides I should be using Times. And that my paragraphs need to be numbered. And indented 1.2 inches. Which is good, because otherwise it might look how I want it to look. And apparently, I don't know what I want.

My space heater knows me better than I know myself too. It decides when I'm warm enough and shuts off. But what if I'm not warm enough? Some might say that the shut-off is a fire-prevention measure, but I think the heater's just being a smartass.

My computer decides when I'm done using it and goes to sleep. My MP3 player does the same thing. Which is fine, because I didn't want to listen to the rest of that Journey album anyways.

My computer's auto-fill feature lets me know what I was trying to write. I thought I was looking up information on Spaceghost, but apparently I really wanted to look up spaghetti recipes. Spell check does the same thing. I know I wrote hotspot, but, as the computer knows, I meant "hodgepodge."

The treadmill at the gym decides how long I need to cool down for and at what speed. Otherwise I might run forever, never knowing when to stop. Or worse, stop early and suffer the consequence of an uncooled muscle.

The toilet decides when I need to flush. Regardless of if I was done or not. Then the toilet paper dispenser somehow is able to discern that I only need three squares of toilet paper. After that, the sink decides how much water I need and at what temperature (usually, apparently, icy cold is what works for me) and that I need exactly one squirt of soap.

Doors decide when I need to enter or leave a building by opening or closing, the vending machine at work decided I needed a diet Cherry Pepsi instead of the Mountain Dew I thought I wanted, and the Taco Bell drive through knew that I really wanted a Chalupa Supreme instead of the Chicken Soft Taco that I had ordered.

I am very happy that technology has taken over all of these processes for me and that really, I have to do very little thinking on my own anymore. This leaves extra space in my head for more important things, such as memorizing important lines from Napolean Dynomite. Now excuse me, I have to go build a cake or something. Gosh.