This wouldn’t happen if I lived on an island.

I sincerely hope I am about to get my period, because if not I have somehow entered “bitch” mode for no apparent reason.
It all started with the phone. Really, I would be happy to go back to smoke signals, that’s how little use I have for the damn things. But it seems that I can’t get away from having one, so here I am, stuck with one.
I don’t want to go into it all except to say that I now, more than ever, believe that you get what you pay for and have transferred away from MetroPCS and back to T-Mobile. Losing service while trying to make a call for an article that I am already past deadline for is really not the best way to keep me as a customer. Not allowing me to talk to a person and having faulty computer-driven account access that gets stuck in an endless loop while I try to solve the problem- WHILE ON DEADLINE- is also not the best way to keep me from wanting to scream.
From the phone it moved on to a Wal-mart experience, where I am once again amazed at the amazing cross-section of white trash that shops there. At one point I was dangerously close to telling a lady to learn to use condoms to prevent any further dilution of the species.
Then I spilled a perfectly good Dr. Pepper on my way home… in the bag containing my new phone. To keep it from spilling further I resort to driving ten miles an hour down 22nd Ave with my foot supporting the remaining beverage.
So I get home- finally- and take a nice spill on the sidewalk (of course)… not on the scooter, mind you. Just seems that simply walking is too much for me today. I have a scraped knee and palm. I feel like a seven year old, except with a mortgage and crow’s feet. Lovely.
Madison, apparently not happy that I have given her half my lunch and not all of it, decided to pull paper out of Scrubfy’s cage to get the seed off of it. My living room floor looks like Wild Kingdom. She’s sleeping peacefully on the chair now, her work done.
To complete my day, all this running around has left me no time to DO anything, and I have to be at the bookstore in an hour. Of course, I haven’t washed the ONE pair of jeans I can still squeeze into, so looks like I’ll be wearing that particular science project.
And, of course, I have a brand new phone, which looks pretty easy to use. Except I have to add in EVERYONE’S phone numbers again. Don’t be shocked if you get my voice mail; it just means I don’t recognize the number.
So, all in all, not one of my better mornings. FAR too much interaction for my taste. I have no idea if my editor ever got my story because I haven’t had phone service since around 10 a.m. I have a scraped knee, badly need a shower, and haven’t cleaned anything. Oh, and the scooter needs gas, meaning I need to be out of the house ten minutes sooner than I thought. I should be able to do a camp shower kinda thing and maybe still skeeter in to the store on time.
It’s all little things, right? Which is exactly my point: it’s always the little things.
I need another cruise.

Published by


I write. I take pictures. I love my dog. I love Florida. My 2016 book, 'Backroads of Paradise' did really well for the publisher and now I feel a ridiculous amount of pressure to finish the second book.