The thousand dollar downgrade

So on Saturday I went swimming with my flip phone tucked into my bra. To guarantee it’s death, I then threw it across the rocks as I whipped my sopping wet bra over my head.

Sunday: iPhone

A step I was nowhere near considering.

Thank goodness for payment plans.

Last night, I sat in bed working on my impending custody case. On my bed was an array of legal pads, color-coded file folders, scraps of paper, highlighters and my laptop.

When MCB came in to say hello, I casually placed a legal pad on my keyboard and gently closed the top to make space for him to come in for a hug.

Apparently, not gently enough.

Shot. To. Hell.

When I took it to the place where they were supposed to fix it I was told that it would cost $900 to fix it and would take at least 5 days, or $970 to replace it with a new one that I could have today.

Albeit, a smaller one.

To actually replace what I had would cost another $150 on top of the $970 and it would have to be ordered.

Why the rush you ask?

What was I working on when I broke it?

COURT – imminent court.

Can I prepare my case without a computer? No – for a gazillion reasons.

Can I go to the library to work?

Sure, if I wasn’t about to get on a plane to travel during the time during which I have to put together evidence and complete forms that are only available online.

So 1,000 dollars and a mild heart attack later, I now have a smaller computer than I did before.

Do you think that since I was working on this case because my ex-husband is in contempt of court on many counts, that I can ask for reimbursement along with legal fees and back child support?

This brought tears to my eyes

The overwhelm that I am feeling at this moment is indescribable.

In just two notes, my childhood came rushing back to me.

The intimate parts that meant my childhood – my home, my family, our rituals and laughter and love and sadness.

And also my childhood on a larger scale – growing up in this era of our country, what was happening in the world, what was cool, what was heartfelt, and what was racy.

This title popped up on my Netflix; I am home alone, relaxing, and I thought, “Sure,I’ll watch an episode.”

I even wondered if it was really as good as I remembered.

And then, that song.

The memories.

The waves of nostalgia, a true mix of sadness and sweetness.

I will watch every single episode.

Those Days

Today is one of those.

I am so very heavy. Heart-wrenchingly sad.

And I have absolutely no idea why.

It began last night – although I didn’t realize it at the time. Thought I was just tired.

I got home from work, went upstairs and crawled right into bed. Skipped MCB’s lovely meatloaf. Skipped time with my boys+1. Didn’t read. Didn’t write. Laid in bed with my eyes closed and the heating pad on my tummy to calm me until I fell asleep.

Then of course, midnight had me in that terrible exhausted yet unable to sleep because I’d already slept for 4 hours place and I didn’t want to get up and I didn’t want to toss and turn, so I plugged into my iPod and listened to Yo Yo Ma all night long.

I blew off coffee with my dear friend because I couldn’t quite differentiate between real and dream.

And now, I am in a total funk and all I want to do is continue to lie in my bed and cry, cry, cry.

I’ll snap out of it eventually, but for the moment, it sucks to be me.

Another day in the office

Sitting at my desk with my boss standing next to me looking at my computer.

Fingerprint on the glasses.

I wipe them with the tail of my sweater.

It’s worse.

I bend down to grab the glasses cleaner out of my purse, bumping my boss’ ass with my head on the way down.

Grabbing the goo, I try to sit back up.

Two of the glitter flowers on the breast of my sweater have gotten hooked on the thigh of my tights.

I can’t move.

I am bent in half.

He is trapped between my head up his ass and my desk.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or not.

My other co-worker, not trapped, is losing his shit.

The only way to extrapolate myself is to tear a flower off of the sweater and rip a hole in the tights.

Rhinestone is left stuck to my quad.

All I can do at the point is point out the obvious.

Yeah, I’m a little bit of a spaz.


Write a book.

Change the world.

Get your book banned.

Win the Pulitzer.

Settle into obscurity.

Come out of said obscurity 55 years later and turn the world upside down with excitement.

We thought that we had heard all that we ever would from Scout, Atticus and Boo, and then, this:

“To Kill a Mockingbird” will not be Harper Lee’s only published book after all.