My "Adverb" Problem

Twenty seven years of abusing adverbs, and still we are married!

Like most weekend mornings, I got a call from Duncan Aviation around 7 a.m. today.  When I answered, I was treated to the dulcet tones of a handsome cabinet maker, uttering sweet nothings into my receiver. Emphasis on "nothings."

"What are you wearing?"  is a common, tiresome and, frankly, utterly inappropriate question, considering that "An old t-shirt, Hanes tummy-control briefs and a pair of men's shorts" is hardly a titillating answer.   Fortunately, because Mark doesn't know how to use the speaker phone, I never hear anyone else giggling in the background.

Sometimes, it's the little victories. . . .

This morning's inane conversation eventually turned substantive, focusing on an upcoming event that will require Mark to leave work an hour or two early.  As per my instructions delivered during dinner last night, he said he'd take off a few hours that day.  And that's when my little adverb problem emerged.  Yet again.  (Is "yet" an adverb?  I mean, it kind of tells you when . . . It's all so confusing, isn't it?!)

I had told him the event was next Friday, and somehow, he interpreted that as meaning the Friday that is happening in five days.   As though that could ever be next Friday!

Pshaw!  

Mark tells me that I do this on a regular basis, using next when I mean the week after next. Or next when I mean this.  In a rare conciliatory mood, I mumbled my agreement that I may, in fact, have an adverb problem.   How many social events, after all, have we missed because I've chosen the wrong adverb?  Okay, maybe three, tops, but, still, it is a problem.  . . . and a shameful one, to boot.  Because I pride myself in my command of precise, crisp language.

The fact that a freaking adverb--the bastard stepchild of the grammar family--has proven to be my conversational downfall is more than I can stand.  Like admitting that you don't know the difference between jam and jelly, or rap and hip hop.

 I'm ashamed to admit that, in my weak moments, I often lash out at the Associated Press, whose style rules dictate that a Friday arriving within six days of the current day shall be referred to as "this Friday."  At least that's what I think it says.

Perhaps what hurts most in these post-intervention moments is the realization that I'm going to have to rely on numbers to address the problem.  Numbers!  "May 6th" simply doesn't have the quaint ring of "next Friday."

But I'm not above changing.  Especially if it means I'm better able to communicate with the honey-voiced man on the other end of the phone, the guy who's really good looking.

"Lolly, Lolly, Lolly," Grammar Rock's lamest video EVER!--thanks for nothing!