The No Good Funked Up Silly Day and Week

The last few days have been rough. The bombing of Soleimani in Baghdad has ramped up my free floating anxieties a notch or a million. Now instead of waking up in a sweat trying to remember if I turned off the garden hose I'm waking up wondering  if we're all about to die. Shades of my childhood, huddling under desks in nuclear bomb drills. Like a cheap piece of varnished government plywood is going to save your ass if the bomb drops. Even as a kid I knew that was crazy thinking.

Now I worry about all three of our kids living in the shadow of D.C. The two youngest live in Fairfax County and my eldest is just up the road in Loudon. Too close if something very bad goes down in Washington, D.C. New worries.

I can tell myself all night and all day long that the bouts of anxiety have more to do with Satan's Tic Tacs (steroids), know it in my gut and still have it. Part and parcel of asthma and the treatment.

I think I merely notice it more now here because I do have long stretches of time when I have zero anxiety or bad asthma here. In the States it was pretty steady, which is why I was on chemo for awhile for the asthma and a pile of those nutty sounding biologic meds they push on television. When something is your normal you just do not notice it as much.

Jim eventually sent me out early on Friday to run errands like picking up an order at the bookstore, refilled our water jugs and grabbing a few groceries. Later we went to the courthouse in Santa Cruz to see if we could file against the motorcycle mechanic. He kept me away from CNN and the other news channels because he could see how fearful and squirrelly I was getting.

This morning did not help. If you read Jerks 4 Jesus you'll see I had a pile of folks I barely know from church here telling me off for being fearful we're all gonna die. One of the weirdest of all things living in Costa Rica is that the majority of the American community here are Pro Trumpers. The same idiotic rich white people that are illegally migrating here without going through the residency process  yet screeching "Immigrants go home" in America. People I mostly avoid.

Jim enjoys these folks. I do not. I prefer the surfer community and the older retired people here.

While I was just starting to answer the flood of Facebook messages and comments from this crew I somehow upended a full coffee pot sized mug of java right on my new 3 month old lap top. I snatched it up screaming some rather colorful vulgarities. Ran holding it upside down and blow dried it ten minutes before burying it in two pounds of rice in a shallow casserole dish. I've been told to leave it there three days.

Pulled out the brand new spare we picked up in Charleston on sale, and discovered that when TSA searched my laptop bag they'd managed to misplace the manuals and the charger cord. I'd left the new laptop in the box in my bag, they took it apart and apparently lost the accessories. Panic time.

I'm not exactly in a place where I'm going to be able to obtain a Lenovo cord easy, even if I have full confidence in the nice guys down at the computer will likely be able to fix my laptop. I hope they have a universal laptop cord. I had to buy one once in the States. The laptop is going in the morning to the shop. It keeps turning on and off by itself and the screen does not work now, even after all day in rice.

I hardly know what to think about the coming days. I'm still frightened Capt Dumbass is about to get us blown to hell.