Swimsuits and Shattered Hearts

This week I thought I would write about my most recent life lesson.

I had a long list last Wednesday, it was written out in my planner and I was keen to start ticking off tasks and scribbling through the jobs I had finished.

At the top of the list was to mend my iphone screen.

There had been an accident with it a few days ago when it had fallen face down. I had picked it back up quickly hoping to avoid the painful truth that it was damaged, but it was already looking like frost on a window in winter.

I set off for the Apple store.

I entered and tried to attract the attention of one of the very millennial looking assistants that all seemed to have beards, tattoos, drainpipe jeans and no apparent need to do anything in a hurry. They are artists so they move carefully without speed.

One of them looks my way so I begin to explain my problem and I am redirected to someone stood in the middle of the store holding an ipad and taking names and notes. He speaks to me in a clear tone usually reserved for a kindergarten teacher. He explains it’s a waiting system but they will text me a series of extremely helpful and clear texts indicating when I am to return to the store. He also mentions backing up my documents and passwords and how they need to be known. This makes me nervous as I am convinced I have assignments of demons sent to me just to mess up my passwords and anything technical.

I am now going to be in the mall for at least 90 minutes so I decided to look for a new swimsuit. This is the worst possible shopping idea any woman can have. It doesn’t matter what size or shape or age you are, it’s a mixture of daunting and depressing. I have a healthy realistic view of my body, however, I am 57 years old and I have had 3 children and way too much chocolate to think this is going to be fun. I begin by going into places like JC Penny’s but nothing looked even possible. With about 30 minutes left I went into the final store and found a range of swimsuits that looked potentially alright, they would cover all the necessary bits of my body and they were on sale. I took several into the changing rooms and was in the middle of pulling something stretchy over my slightly larger than average hips when the text from the apple store came indicating I should return. I bundled the swimsuits into a pile, left them in the room and fled back to Apple. They told me upon arriving that they were not really ready, that the texts can be misleading so I sat and waited a further 40 mins only to discover the technicians were all in a meeting and wouldn’t return for another 20mins.

At this point, I decided to try to reconquer the swimsuit scenario and try to achieve something in this day, so I ran back to the store ready to buy the one that l could best wiggle and jiggle my body into. I dashed back to the swimsuit section grabbed a few more options, decided I was never going to improve on what I saw in the mirror without surgery or dark glasses so I handed my money over.

Returning to the Apple store holding onto the sweet victory of the shopping success I was greeted by the guy with a disappointed look on his face saying I had missed the tech guy just as I had left.

In that moment, I had a choice to fully realize how fortunate and amazing my life was compared to many others and to actively choose joy. I was hassled but not homeless, I was fed -up but not without food, I was disappointed but not dying. I am so very privileged.

I smiled, waited and eventually walked out 55 mins later with an unbroken screen but a shattered heart.

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