It does. What a fucked up piece of shit yesterday turned out to be.

My Fitbit died. Not even six months old. That’s the third (and last) Charge 5 I’ve purchased, and they all wound up dying for no explicable reason. I’ve been a loyal Fitbit customer since I first started walking back in 2015. I do believe the time has come for me to give Garmin a try.

Of course, that’s nothing compared with what was to come. No one else was up for a walk on Friday, so I headed out on my own. I was suffering from a serious lack of motivation, but I did manage to do the Baloy Beach walk. Even avoided the temptation to catch a trike on the way back home. Only about 5K all in, but that was better than the nothing I felt like doing.

I spent the rest of the day being lazy, taking several naps, and not doing much else besides posting on the blog. Well, I did do my ab exercises, so I wasn’t a total zero.

And then, it came time to shower up and get ready for my Friday night, featuring the SOB dance competition. I put on a fresh pair of shorts and, as usual, transferred the contents from the pockets of the previous day’s shorts. Keys, inhaler, hanky, wallet…wait a minute, where the fuck is my wallet? Okay, no need to panic. It made it home with me (I paid for the trike), and I had it that morning (gave my helper cash for meds), so it had to be around here somewhere. Except that it wasn’t. It made no sense. I thought back to the only time I’d been out of the house, my morning walk, but the wallet had never left my pocket. Oh, wait, yes, it did. I had seen “mama” on the Beach road and gave her the usual 100 peso donation. I must have somehow failed to make sure the wallet was securely back in my pocket before walking on. Well, if I had any hopes that some honest passerby would try to return the wallet, I know now that was just a foolish dream. It’s gone for good.

The contents included around 3000 pesos, my Chase credit card I use for grocery shopping, my alien registration card, and some other less valuable items. I’ve canceled the credit card (no one had tried to use it, at least) and will have to figure out the best way to get the replacement mailed here. I’ll go to immigration next week and see what the process for replacing the ARC involves–the card also doubles as my ID. Luckily, I wasn’t carrying my debit card, so I still have access to cash via ATMs.

Needless to say, losing my wallet was a real kick in the nuts, and given my current state of mind was especially painful. I just need to suck it up and deal with the inconvenience my own stupidity has brought about.

Despite my crushed spirit, I headed on out to the SOB at Queen Victoria. I was the first to arrive, which is good because that allows me to choose a seat with the best view. Except EVERY table surrounding the stage had a “reserved” sign. WTF? I mean, I get having a VIP table, but to relegate everyone except the “in crowd” to the second-tier seating is pure bullshit. I called a waitress over, but she just shrugged it off, saying they had “called ahead.” Hmm. I was there an hour early and would have spent that time drinking and spending money; they opted for empty tables instead. I told them the lack of front-row seating was unacceptable and left. So, the bad day just got worse. No SOB for me this week.

I had no idea what to do next except try to kill the pain with copious amounts of alcohol. Cheap Charlies would work for that. I had a pretty gal seated on each side of me and plied them with drinks while I sucked down my gin and sodas. My plan succeeded better than expected, and I was drunk before 8 p.m. So, I went home and went to bed.

Today I seem to have a bit more energy and maintained a brisk 12-minute kilometer pace on my morning walk.

My sinuses have also cleared up, which is quite a relief. I’m so impressed with these doctors I’ve found; they healed with meds and vitamins what another doctor wanted to handle through surgery. It pays to shop around.

So, now it is time to put these setbacks behind me and move on to the next big thing. I’m not sure what that might be, but this morning I found myself contemplating the wisdom of dating again. I really think some (unpaid-for) female companionship may be just the thing to get me out of my head. Hey, what could go wrong?