There’s a National Margarita Day?!
2.22.18 @ Green Pig Pub in Downtown Salt Lake
Today was a convoluted mess. I’m glad there was a margarita at the end of it.
I’m in a bit of a Fibro flare, have been for several weeks. My pain level is not as high, even in this extended episode, as the every-day-run-of-the-mill that was the last 5-6 years of my life, so I’m pretty grateful. But it is wearing on me, and I’m utterly exhausted.
I got everything wrong today. Left my card in the wrong pants and had to drive 45 minutes back to town and 45 minutes back to my eye doctor to order my glasses, and then spent nearly 2 hours at the Apple store, on an empty stomach because I don’t eat breakfast and I spent an hour and a half of my life, at lunch, to drive in frustration rather than feed myself.
They couldn’t replace my battery, which holds no charge, because it had “expanded.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. I can’t conceive of why a battery might bloat.
“Lots of things can do it,” I learn. “Usually, it’s just part of the dying process. Different compounds break down and the carbon dioxide makes it swell.” The young man delivering this news proclaims it like nothing-out-of-the-ordinary.
“We’re talking about exploding gases,” I say. “Shrapnel. And it’s right next to my head!”
“Yeah.” He was non-plussed, but he replaced my entire iPhone for the cost of a battery. Friend, that was worth 2 hours!
I’m reading a book by Adyashanti, “Falling Into Grace,” another I nabbed from the book exchange I worked in several years ago. It’s a nice depiction of losing the self, and timely after yesterday’s dumbass move of the day.
I think my life is about having my ass handed to me. My ego trips me up. That’s universal, of course, but my ego really trips me up. Adyashanti does a good job of helping me understand what the hell is meant by relinquishing the sense of self. (Attempts usually leave me irritated by pretentious hippie-chatter, and no more enlightened.)
So I’m enjoying that, and most things on this annual act of marking time. It’s nice, because I’ve noticed that late February is often a bitchy time of year for me.
Oh. And my optometrist recommended bifocals. Ha!
Happy Blogiversary to me. Happy 222 to you you you!