First point of business: I recently “upgraded” to an iPhone. Todd has had one for a few years now, kept insisting I should switch, but just like changing my driver’s license from PA to Maryland I resisted all the way. That is to say, I resisted until it became necessary to do something about it. I mean it took me over two years with a Samsung cracked screen to finally be all, OKAY I’M READY.

The phone came just before my birthday, which also coincided with a bowling tournament in Scranton, PA. Two days before we left. The data transfer (or whatever the fuck they call it) was shockingly easy, but that’s about where it ended. I needed to reopen apps, whose passwords – and in some cases, usernames – were long forgotten. Spent the majority of the 3-hour drive in the passenger seat trying not to curse too loudly while I attempted to reset all these things.

I was beyond frustrated with just the basics, told myself “one thing at a time.” Okay, we’re out of town and it’s not that important and it’s my birthday weekend blah blah blah. Ran out of iCloud storage right away because 6,000 photos and guess what? You can pay monthly for more. A day later that upgrade was out of storage and I said to Todd, where even do I access this “iCloud” and – if you can believe this – he said, I’m not really sure. Wut?

THEN, Facebook was adding new friends by the dozens THAT I DIDN’T EVEN REQUEST and so I’m freaking out and I did what everyone tells you to do – reset my password. I’m still convinced my new phone is responsible for this shitshow but Todd insisted it wasn’t. (It took a couple of weeks to unfriend all these people – some of whom were PM’ing me asking how I heard about their business in South Dakota – and more than one password change, paranoia being what it is.)

This whole thing had me so upset and then to top it off I couldn’t figure out how to set an alarm without setting a “sleep schedule” which I found extremely ridiculous because I DON’T WANT TO SET A FUCKING SLEEP SCHEDULE. Somehow the alarm I set was waking me up every day, including a Saturday I didn’t have to get up at 6 and that pissed me off too, especially since for once the dogs were letting us sleep in. All I wanted was to set an alarm for 6 a.m. and have it go off. I don’t need technology telling me how much sleep I need.

Anyway, we’ve been short-staffed at work for several months and so I’ve happily volunteered to fill in (aka mo’money) but by the end of May I think I’d hit a wall. Todd and [my brother] Matt left for a conference the day after we returned from Scranton. One of many work conferences that is held in OCMD. I didn’t go, and when they both returned four days later with a vicious flu the likes of which I haven’t seen in ten years, I’m happy I wasn’t there.

So, about that wall. By the time Todd called me on his last night there, I’d had a very long day at work – 8 a.m. to nearly 6:30 p.m. – that was the mental equivalent of working the breakfast, lunch, and dinner shift in a restaurant with no break until I got home, literally. There was a lunch meeting so I ate through that and back to my desk for the second half of the say. No breather. By the time I left I was so stressed about the dogs being alone for over 11 hours that I fixed myself ONE vodka martini when I finally got home. Drank it and switched to water.

I don’t know, around 9? Todd called and I went on a rant over those FB friend requests I didn’t send and THEN I can’t just set a simple alarm without setting a sleep schedule and he interrupted me and said, Tara, have you been drinking?

So I hung up on him. Not my finest moment. I could’ve handled it better. It was a sliver of the old me that can snap on a dime. I don’t live there anymore, and sometimes I forget that when something triggers me.

Rolling back to the Scranton bowling tournament, we left at the ass-crack of dawn as we had to be there by 11 and wanted to take the scenic route. Which was lovely, by the way. Our friends (a couple from Maryland) were already there and I was feeling a little out of sorts and getting hangry, so we walked across the street to grab breakfast, which turned out to be over at 10:50 so we had an early lunch. I know I was snippy. At some point I announced to the table that I think I just need a Snicker’s bar, which seemingly went unacknowledged as the guys kept talking but then Brenda laughed and it was not all for naught. She leaned over on the way back to the bowling alley and said she understood the mood I’m in and she shared it.

The bowling alley was so crowded there was literally nowhere to sit and it made me more irritable. I had half a mind to go sit in the car but it was barely noon and a long day ahead. It seemed, by the energy, that everyone was in a bad mood. There was an argument over the splitting up of teams and open spaces for subs of unknown ability, pissy attitudes over hotel rooms and family members not being supportive or being assholes and everyone was standing around with this Christopher Walken-esque expression.

Meanwhile, the bowling alley air-conditioning was set to Arctic Circle and I’m not exaggerating when I say that I put my coat on with the hood up and threw Todd’s sweatshirt over my legs and by the time we left there I couldn’t feel my toes. I shit you not. I was never so happy to be outside in 92 degrees when we left.

We stayed at a hotel in nearby Wilkes Barre that was under active renovations with some odors and the workers were riding the elevators with us. On our way out to dinner and the second round of the tournament, the elevator made a sound I didn’t like and I said, that doesn’t sound good. We made it out just fine but the elevator was out of service when we returned.

Todd and I ended up having dinner alone at Ale Mary’s which turned out to be perfect. We sat at the bar and ordered garlic-parmesan wings and grilled chicken tacos which were fantastic. I decided, this being the eve of my birthday, to commence drinking. At the very least by the time we were back in the alley I would be lit enough to be immune to the cold. Spoiler: it wasn’t as cold at 8:00 p.m. and I didn’t need the coat and it wasn’t because of the vodka because my sober friend said it wasn’t as bad.

I was determined that dammit, it’s my birthday tomorrow and I’m NOT going to be miserable. If I have to get drunk to accomplish that, then bring on the Tito’s. Our crowd was more lighthearted for the second half and Eddie ordered shots to celebrate our birthdays (his was the week before) and no one was scowling.

After the tournament we went to the casino – the Mohegan Sun in Wilkes Barre – and Todd played while I continued my drinking tour and watched a band of white guys, who weren’t even born yet when it was a thing, singing Funky Cold Medina with a uncomfortable combination of nostalgia and secondhand embarrassment. The clock struck midnight without much fanfare until I realized it was officially my birthday so I proposed a toast to myself.

I’m fascinated by this aging thing. Every year seems to come faster, and I realized that at 56 I am just four years away from the next decade of my life. I’m not sure how or what to feel about it, so I’m feeling nothing. I have friends in their 60s that I consider peers. What will 60 look like for me?

The various kids in my life were all so excited for me to get this iPhone. Like, OMG you got an iPhone?! It’s almost comical. And it makes me feel old, in some ways. Niecelet likes to counter with, you are NOT OLD. And then makes comments about my dump truck, which apparently is a compliment.

As previously hinted, I have also upgraded my hearing. Not surprising that anyone in GenX has difficulty hearing (IYKYK) and I have been accused by many, multiple times. It’s not as bad as you think, or even as I think, but it has helped at the very least in my work environment and so I will take it. Nephtoo, the neuroscientist, stated that cognitive decline is related to hearing loss and bestowed his approval. Thank God.