You’ll never know because I’ll never remember.

When I wrote this morning.. I wrote for an hour. Something about a procrastinations and lists that somehow led to writing about sharing my poetry with Jim, even the ones covering topics that might not be to his taste or worse, make him uncomfortable. Blah-blah, woof-woof, and then I had to pee.

You know, walking and drinking water does that. I’ve learned a lesson about Evernote in offline mode losing content that’s in cache memory only. I click the little green check box in the upper left on the screen. That should commit my words to more permanent memory right? Like a little “save” button cuz what else would it be for? But no.

I return from the bathroom and open the app and it reloads. Like that elephant icon displayed for a hot second and that’s when I knew, part or all of my writing would be lost. It was. One damn character was saved. The “2” which was the first character of the title which I always start with the date. That’s it. 

I was so angry I immediately stopped the treadmill and left the room. I was soooooo angry. I was so angry I marched up the stairs and grabbed my laptop and searched for the open support ticket with the company. Opened 2+ weeks ago. No answer yet. I don’t expect to get one, but I can guaranteee they won’t get another freaking dime from me. I updated the comments on the ticket saying I wanted help getting my money back (fat chance, I know). Whatever. I was so angry. 

Then I exported all my notes to my laptop in HTML format. Then I created new folders in my google drive. Not wasting any time, you see, dumping that Elephant and switching to a new platform. 

This little incident was followed by my coffee maker refusing to make coffee. I found myself standing there beating on the side of my Kureg like we did with the wooden cabinet tube TV my parents had in our living room growing up when the signal was bad or the picture off. It worked then and it worked today. (It was either that or the fact that I unplugged it for about 20 seconds, effectively rebooting any internal electronics).

I had my coffee but was still angry. About losing my words, my hour, my temper. Can a person be angry about losing their temper. Ohhh the irony.

I promised my dad a visit today. I needed a shower. I didnt have more time to fuck around with stupid broken things. 

After getting out of the shower I got an email which, you guessed it, made me angry. Detecting a trend yet? 

I mean, there wasn’t anything in particular that should have made me angry about it, but it did. 

I replied, gathered my things which included a reheated coffee in a travel cup, and headed out the door. Running late. On the interstate I punched my steering wheel and then declared out loud to no one that “I’m the problem.”

*** The Fold ***

By now I’m sure I’ve lost 90% of people who started reading this post. But, hey, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. 

Then I arrive at my dads and spend the next hour trying to get him signed up for some online account where he can check the status of his railroad retirement and hopefully report that his wife has died so they can adjust their monthly benefit accordingly. 

Get this. He was calling them to see what he needed to do and the automated phone system included this ominous message about delinquency reporting such things and how it’s a federal crime to keep funds distributed erroneously after a persons death. He likely has already received some funds (for her) for December and is worried about the repercussions. 

So your spouse dies suddenly at the end of the month and now your facing federal charges for money deposited automatically to your bank account?! Really??!! Good grief. 

Try to do the right thing. I dare you! Try to go to the office (reportedly closed due to Covid). Try to call the main number and wait for an hour (plus)  on hold. Try to sign up for the online system which takes about a half hour and lots of technical hoops, just to find there is absolutely no option to help you update the records or anyway to send a medsage electronically or chat. Just try. 

Then fail and give up. That’s what he did and then so did I. I promised him I would try to call first thing tomorrow. I want to help. I’d like to provide him more support than just driving over a couple times a week to chat or have lunch. 

The whole thing cured my anger, though, momentarily. I left his house feeling sad and helpless.. all heat drained from my body.

Now I’m walking again. This post is just a test of the google docs/drive capabilities in offline mode. This post is just another hour of my life and another hour of words nobody cares about but me. This post is just more therapy for my anger and insanity. 

Is it working? Can’t tell yet. 

If I lose this post, though, I’ll probably have to murder someone. My sister maybe since she works at Google. 🤷‍♀️

I’m like 3 days until my period Starts so the anger and on-the-verge-of-tears emotion make sense. Wait a week, the dust will settle, it will all be normal again. 

The “Above and Below the Fold” title we’re for my two lists (lost this morning). Above was the list of things I choose to do instead of working on my MFA lecture, effectively procrastinating it until the bitter end. Below is the list of things I am not doing (don’t want to do) and would rather work on my lecture than do. You know, like cleaning toilets and talking to my ex-husband.

I remember using the word douche-y twice in my post this morning. Describing my ex and his behavior. I remember because I had to look up the proper spelling.

My lecture is 14 days away. Ugh!! Time to get to it I suppose. Wonder if I can work on it while walking?

I think that’s enough of a test. Time to go self medicate. Whatever that is today. 🤷‍♀️

Simmering Down, 

~Miss SugarCookie