Something needs to change the trajectory of this week. Each thing that goes wrong feels like it is making me increasingly more freaked out. I have to change things before I end up in surgery or in jail by this weekend.
I thought I had done the worst thing a modern, first-world person can do. I came back from the Rotary social and could not find my phone. I dumped the contents of my purse, patted every pocket, went out to the car I'd borrowed from my daughter, and could not find it. I went back to the bar and talked to the Rotarians who were still there, and to the bartenders and waitresses, and no joy. I was nauseated and panicked. Mr S-P tried calling it while we were searching the car, but I keep it on vibrate, so I didn't hear anything. So he called the carrier and suspended service to the phone while we decided what to do. I had changed purses on Monday, and after almost an hour of frantic searching, I said, you know, there are pockets I don't use on this purse. Let me see if it's in one of them. It was. And it was a brick, thanks to the call the Mr had just made. So he called to reactivate it. Do you know it takes significantly longer for them to turn a phone on than it does to turn it off? I mean significantly. He called and pushed buttons and then talked to a human and then got put on hold for an extended period of time, and eventually the call disconnected. I kept attempting to send texts or call on the phone, and it refused to play. So I called customer service from my phone (the only call it could make), and went through the same dance. After forty-five minutes of negotiating, between us, we got it to function again. It was agonizing. Although it was funny when the customer service rep told me to see whether it would send a text, and I did. Then he said, "see whether you can make a call." "Um," I said, "How do I do that while I'm still on the line with you?" "Oh, right."
My daughter was so kind to loan me her car while she was at work, so that I could make it to the social and chat with a candidate for the state house who is also in our Rotary chapter. Hours earlier, the Mr had wandered off on foot for meds for Bump (who is continuing to do poorly, although he keeps trying to hang in as long as possible), and then he went down to the Ford dealer to check on the prognosis for my car. He said they had the a new component for the brain, the one that keeps forgetting how to shift gears and has been replaced twice and reset twice. They need to test drive it and see whether they have to put a new clutch in ... again. I have lost track whether this is the second or third clutch. I just can't bear to research it. By the time I got home from acquiring my daughter's car and running through Target once, there was a new white car sitting in my driveway, and he was just climbing out of it. I don't know why it feels so much bigger inside than mine. Maybe they increased the cabin size in the version that came along four years after mine. Maybe it's because it's a sedan not hatchback. Maybe it's because it has a tan interior instead of black. Whatever, it seems pretty good inside and out. I'm so relieved that he went ahead and got a good car, with a full warranty on it. Maybe this is the trajectory change we needed. I'll be happy with good news for a while.
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