It's just for a cleaning that I've now canceled and rescheduled twice so there's no way to get out of the appointment.
Anyway, so yeah, if it doesn't magically come alive, my magic box, I'll take it into town with me to go and visit the handy young men at the Computer Doctor place and if they can't fix it I guess I'll have to buy a new one and although my husband will spring for that, I hate the idea of it with all of my heart and soul.
I'm just having a bad day. Do you remember that movie "Crimes Of The Heart"? If you never have, you should watch it because it's pretty fucking great and there's this one scene where Diane Keaton's character tries to off herself by various means (I think it's the Diane Keaton character- it's been a long time) including hanging herself from a chandelier which falls from the ceiling and then, still dragging the chandelier behind her, sticks her head in the oven. Her sister, played by Sissy Spacek (again, as memory serves) finds her and confronts her with what the hell she's doing.
"It's just been a really bad day," says the Diane Keaton character. "A really bad day."
Well, we've all been there or perhaps not and honey, you just have to find the humor sometimes and skip over the suicide attempts and go straight to the image of yourself with your head in the oven and a chandelier tied to your neck and realize that no, you might as well live, as Dorothy Parker said.
Not that today has been that bad. Honestly, it has not. It's just been a medium bad day with one thing and another and there is no doubt that I might as well live despite the computer and the dentist appointment tomorrow.
You know what makes me really sad?
Okay. No. You don't.
But ONE thing that makes me really sad is that I've never made enough money writing to buy so much as a freaking iPad, much less a MacBook.
Back when I'd written my first novel and had a real agent who said she was definitely going to sell it, I had two goals as to monetary reward. One was to be able to afford to take my kids to Cozumel and one was to buy myself whatever the newest Apple laptop technology was available at the time.
That dream died and with it came a resignation which flattened me so much that I never really submitted any other piece of writing in the ensuing years except for a tiny thing here or there and I have sadly accepted the fact that I am: A housewife, and, An eternally unpaid blogger.
I know. So unique. And honestly- pretty good gigs in the scheme of things.
I never even bought into the fantasy that by monetizing (what a great word!) my blog I could make ones and ones of dollars. Or, more likely pennies.
This is not to say that I would quit blogging for any reason on earth which I can imagine short of the death of the internet because although I don't make any money on what I write here, it is for various reasons one of the most important things in my life which is either extremely profound or incredibly sad.
Am I droning on and on?
Yes. I am. So what? No one is paying me for this shit.
Excuse the profanity which may be, even for me, in excess today. I downloaded and have been listening to this.
And if anyone uses profanity more liberally and creatively than I do, it is Mr. Bourdain and my ears and brain have been influenced.
Perhaps I should be listening to Shakespeare but I am not and there you go.
Interestingly enough, Anthony (may I call you that sir?) speaks of tempting fate in various self destructive ways when he was going through a long string of bad days, and I also caught the final episode of "Olive Kitteridge" today while I was IRONING which involved an almost- suicide but which then ended with Francis McDormand lying on a bed with her head on Bill Murray's chest looking out a window at the ocean saying, "I don't want to leave this life yet," or something like that.
The point of this entire exercise of typing with my thumbs on an iPhone is to say that I don't want to leave this life yet either and that really, things are not that bad and that the potential for much joy in my life lies right here within me and around me. I almost said "without me" in homage to the Beatles but that could be misinterpreted.
So. In short (too late for that now!) all is well or well enough and I am going to go to bed early so that I can get up and get to that appointment and as much as I dread it, I know that I will be enjoying the rush of endorphins I'll experience when I leave that office tomorrow morning.
Maybe I won't even have to go to the Computer Doctor but I'm not going to ask for too many favors.
Although whatever is, is and that's just the plain and real truth. Either the water that I accidentally sloshed into the side ports of my MacBook killed something vital within it or did not. The universe does not care and it's all a matter of the reality of electronics at this point.
Time to put the chickens up.