Stressed Out

Well, folks, yesterday didn't turn out to be as glorious as Fio thought it would be.  She had to take her computer in--again--because the email was acting up--again--so she left it overnight this time, which meant she was adrift all day. Yes, your Fiorella is addicted to her laptop.  She couldn't work on her book, couldn't research the thousand and one random questions she comes up with each day, couldn't follow what was happening in the world, and couldn't communicate on email or Facebook.

So what she did do (because Fio is also addicted to activity) was drive over to Home Depot with a photocopy of one of the checks in re the scamming handyman that Amy Bullock had said she hadn't received and ask their people to send Amy an email copy of it.  This was the fourth "send" of the pc of the check, and Fio had sweated blood over getting it out of the bank.  Fio will admit it--she almost broke down and cried from total frustration.

Fio does not understand why Amy didn't receive the three previous "sends," but maybe whatever was wrong with the Nemesis's email may have caused it.  ("The Nemesis" is Sonia Dog's name for Fio's laptop.)  On the other hand, she said she received the first one, then "lost it."

Fio also went through the house and wrote down (on a paper tablet) the overheads that were out--fifteen in all, and noted down the three areas that need new drywall because of the mold, called the yardman and the neighbors to arrange a get-together on Monday for us all to talk about a property-line fence, put together some promotion ideas for Where The Heart Leads, made a start on her Christmas sonnet, paid bills, thought about Austin son's upcoming birthday, mentally reviewed the refinancing of the house--and wilted.

She tried to take it easy yesterday evening, then awoke in the early morning with a burning mouth and a rumbling tummy.  GERD.  Three hours later she'd pretty well cured it a powerful antacid pill and milk, but it still lingered.  Husband is going to pick up potato chips, vanilla ice cream, and bagels at the store for her.

Fio dragged you through her personal hell because (1) she is a modern Samuel Pepys, and (2) this morning she realized that what she eats plays only a minimal role in her affliction.  STRESS is the  key factor.  Fio is responsible for many, many things,  and having to operate without a computer was only the tipping point.