I’m writing this as we finish the last leg of our mammoth week away in Scotland. We’re in the car on the way back from George’s (honourable mention, Lyds) a semi-spontaneous pit stop that couldn’t have been a better way to end our week. I’m still in my pyjamas after our sleepover on what remains the comfiest sofa bed I’ve ever slept in, slurping down my coffee, necessary at this time of the morning – Zac has cricket (snore) so it was an early start for us.
George remains disgustingly brown from her travels, but it was nice to catch up again and for her to meet Zac properly (not just via social media, brief phone calls and him holding the door as we all leave).
I need to start this week with the awkward and it’s such a first world problem I feel slightly ashamed that I even felt sad about it for as long as I did, none the less.
Since I bought my iPhone there’s been a weird thing going on with the battery. Sometimes it would be fine and other days it would hit 20% and completely die on me, only to be resurrected with an electrical kiss of life.
It would turn on and off and on and off and on and off again and again until you plugged it in and even then sometimes it needed a restart.
It would misbehave just long enough you’d think about getting someone to look at it, and then start working again for a few weeks/months until the cycle would start again.
While we were away it happened a few times to Zac and when it happened as I was trying to take a picture he insisted we detour via the Apple Store.
Within minutes they’d said they were happy to replace the handset for me, but they couldn’t restore it from a back up, it would have to be set up as a new phone. Fine, but what about my photos? Well they were all saved, but the last back up had been done before we left, so while I had all my photos saved, there were things like my Sparks that were just on the phone.
We started the new phone went on our way and then tried to trick it into restarting and restoring from the backup in the vain hope the main thing I’d lost was still there: my sparks.
I love my spark camera app and I was gutted to find that they’d all gone. I’ve got some saved, but there were others I was still trying to find the perfect song for before I saved and uploaded them and they’ve gone to digital heaven, whisked away on my old handset.
I got a new old phone out of it, but I was genuinely sad for the rest of the day (and the next day) that I’d lost my spark of our anniversary holiday.
That being said, we were mostly ‘de-teching’ while we were away and the photos I really want I do have, the spark was just a little extra perk!
I’m over it now.
I feel like I need to set the scene for this…
It’s a damp day in the Scottish highlands and I’ve had little to no phone signal for most of the week. We’re waiting in a stables, helmets on, ready to go horse riding, it’s our anniversary and after visiting Inverary jail (romantic, right?) we were ready for some adventure.
I get a call from a number local to my home town. I knew exactly who it was and while I’ve been waiting for the call, we were about to go horse riding.
I ignored it. They rang again.
I sort of had to answer it this time, and I was definitely glad I did.
After months of trying to get some extra work, landing the bar job, but hours there being sporadic and unreliable I’ve finally got a lifeguarding job.
The same one I had in 2009 before I went travelling…there’s some kind of poetry in the cyclic nature of that, I’m sure.
I can’t wait to get started. Not just because we need the money, but I’m much happier when I’m busy. Yes, I get tired, but I feel I’m more productive with my time, and there’s no better feeling than going to bed after a hard shift.