Last Sunday, I ordered a new phone on the T-Mobile website, since I had neither the time nor the energy to go to a store. But it never came. That meant I was going to have to deal with this today, spend time on the phone, explain and re-explain and explain again what my problem was even though it wasn’t really my problem. I had paid my money for an order I needed. I just wanted there to be a person I could call and ask, “Where the fuck is my phone.”
But of course that’s not how things work in life.
Two hours and six transfers later, and one bout of crying, they’re now sending me my original order. Theoretically.
Two weeks until Ironman. It appears I consistently reach a point about two weeks to go where I am just done. Completely done. More excited about going to New York for five days after Ironman and having NO REAL WORKOUTS than actually doing the race. It’s usually around this point that I also start cutting corners and struggling with basic human functions. I think I took a two-hour nap yesterday and then slept over nine hours last night. After my last long hard run and my last long hard ride and just my last everything.