Did you know that if you use Google Chat — and I do — it saves a copy of every single chat you have? I didn’t, until this morning:
10:17 AM me: The headline of the week comes from the Daily Mail:
I WENT TO THE DOCTOR WITH A COUGH AND ENDED UP HAVING A LEG AMPUTATED
me: BABY’S LIFE WAS SLIPPING AWAY WHILE MIDWIVES WERE BUYING A TAKEAWAY
WOMAN TRAPPED ON FAULTY SUNBED FOR THREE HOURS
10:18 AM Burns: life is too gruesome sometimes.
me: “The son is working for the Daily Mail, it’s a steady job but he wants to be paperback writer.”
That was from May 2006. What will the biographers of the future do with this information? Is there nothing Google doesn’t know about us?
I feel stupider already.