Girl at the end of her rope. Nothing to see here

Today I bought and activated a phone for my dad. It only took 57 hours.

I also registered Olivia for summer camp. That took another eight.

I’m also getting over a three day headache courtesy of my tight neck and am expecting my period any moment so I’m a sheer delight and super capable at the moment.

While registering my dad’s phone today, the automated lady on the other end asked me for the SIM card number and said she’d hold while I located it, then she played some music. She said “some phones have the SIM number on the box and others SIM cards are already installed in the phone.” I picked up my box. The box said “your SIM card is already installed in your phone.”

Okay. 

So I try and find the SIM card. I’m breaking the thing apart. Chipping nails and everything because my dad doesn’t have a regular smart phone—nay. He has to have a flip phone from 2000 that you have to pry apart in order to do anything with it. It’s ludacrous and barbaric. Even the phone guy was like “you want a flip phone?! Well, I have to see if I even have one for Verizon.” Which he did. So anyway, I’m chipping my nails and I find the SIM card but it cannot be removed and it also has no numbers on it. I’m frantically thumbing through instructions looking for any mention of a SIM card while loud hold music plays in the background, but all it says is “your SIM card is already installed in your phone” and then “SIM cards can be bought seprately” which was confusing. 

I start to think I missed something so I hang up and go through all the prompts again and listen close. The automated lady—when she mentions the SIM number might be on the box adds “this number is twenty digits long and starts with 89721 (this is not the real number. If I remembered the real number I’d be a psycho.) So even though my SIM card is already installed, I scour the box again for twenty digit numbers. I am Sherlock Holmes searching for a clue. I am hot on the case. But there are 100 twenty digit numbers on this box. All so small it’s barely legible. Finally (finally!) I locate 89721 not under SIM but something titled “ICCID” which makes perfect sense (said nobody ever).

The part I’m leaving out is that I cried out during the second call. Cried out. Frustrated because my problem solving skills are impressively low on regular days, and hovering around a zero this day, and convinced I’d never figure this SIM thing out, I cried out “Dear God, help me! I am not strong enough for this!” while some tears sprang out of my eyes. 

This really happened. 

And the answer is no. I’d have never survived war times or famine or 1700’s Scotland for that matter (if you know you know. And if you don’t know, read my last post about Outlander.)

So anyway, that’s the exact time automated lady gave me the 89721 number lead and I found the thing and my prayers we’re answered.

God is REAL, you guys. 

I already told Jeremy we had to go out to Mambos for dinner tonight because it’s been too trying a day to even think about cooking. Can you even imagine?

Alright, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to refresh my manicure first.