This morning, it rains.

So rather than take the mutts for our morning walk or get any kind of physical exercise whatsoever, I’m making crepes and lamenting the fact that last night I reached a hideous low in my state of Justinless pitiability.

I was going to get the photos ready for a post about San Antonio, and since I’m hardly organized enough to already have those photos labeled and filed on my iMac, I dug a memory card from my camera bag, sent a wish out to the Universe that the photos I wanted were on it, and stuck it, rather unceremoniously, into the computer’s CD drive.

I stuck my memory card into the CD DRIVE.

Not the memory card slot which, due to a lazy design flaw on Apple’s part in my humble little opinion, is located directly beneath the CD drive on the side of the monitor.

And humble, I am, because I didn’t even look.  I just felt it go in, much further than normal, and peeked around the side to see the top of the card was flush with the side of the monitor.

Sonofabitch.

I stuck a piece of paper inside in order to entice it out, but turns out I should’ve tried flowers or chocolates or seductive letters because the damn thing slipped all the way inside, past the rubbery dust blocker thingies, and I heard it clink to rest inside the drive.

Now normally, this is where husbands come in.  I don’t know if you know this, guys, but us women, we use you.  Like, a lot.  Like, even if there’s something we’re perfectly capable of doing but would rather have you do it in case it gets messed up so we can have someone to blame other than ourselves, we ask you to give it a whirl.  Plus, when you do fix it, it makes you feel all manly and powerful and needed and then we’ve done our good deed for the day by letting you do your good deed for the day.

Win-win.

But last night, I couldn’t exactly call Justin’s superiors in Afghanistan and ask if they’d send him home real quick because I did something dumb with my computer.  In fact I can’t exactly call Justin at all — ever — and this tends to pose a problem when I need advice on fixing the dog’s electric fence or why the subwoofer’s buzzing or how to get an effing memory card out of an effing CD drive because apparently, I effing suck at effing EVERYTHING.

So you see, this is where the inevitable self-pity came into play.  I knew that frustrated tears were well on their way, and I should probably pour another glass of wine because the pity party’s not a party without any wine, and I can’t believe I just got home from Raleigh like 2 hours ago, which is an hour away and happens to be the location of the closest Apple store, and who knows how long it will be before I can get back there and get this fixed?

Spiral.

But.

I have a trick for when this starts to happen.

You’re going to love me for this, really.

Go to YouTube (assuming lack of internet connection isn’t your problem), and run a search for “Stuck in a Moment” by U2.

Then, listen.

U2 Stuck in a Moment

And once you do, you will probably cry a little bit.  And then, wonder of wonders, you will smile.  And maybe even laugh.  Because really, with this song, U2 has struck the winning combination of  I-get-it-and-everything-will-be-okay understanding and smack-you-in-the-face-get-over-it-bitch-and-move-on-with-your-life motivation.

Seriously.

So after closing my eyes to “Stuck in a Moment” followed by some internet searching for “how to get a memory card out of an iMac CD drive” and relief that holy crap I’m not the only one, I fashioned a hook tool from folded cardstock and packing tape and, after about 20 minutes of sweet talking and many cardstock prototypes, was able to fish the sucker out.

Source

So.  I never did edit the photos.  Because after all of this, I did crack just a little, U2 or no, and decided that a microwavable peanut butter mug cake and a large glass of milk would do better to cure my woes after a harrowing night of memory card rescue than a bout of actual productivity.

And I was pretty well convinced that composure would not be my primary reaction if I managed to stick the memory card into the right slot and discover that my photos weren’t on it.

I still haven’t had the courage to look.

But, when I do, and if I feel the need to spaz out, “Stuck in a Moment” will be there to bring me back to earth.

Because, really.

I never thought you were a fool
But darling, look at you
You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight
‘Cause tears are going nowhere, baby

You’ve got to get yourself together
You’ve got stuck in a moment
And now you can’t get out of it

…

You are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it’s tough and you can never get enough
Of what you don’t really need now, my, oh my

And we don’t.  In the end.  Really need anything.  Just a clear head, some decent music, a little perspective, and the energy to keep on swimming.