Worry wart

I'm alive and well, but not especially thrilled right now.  I went to my Mac Mini computer this morning for the first time in a couple of days and it wouldn't let me log into my account.  The first thing I did was check to see if my caps lock was on, because usually that's the problem when the computer refuses my password.  But no.  So I chose the "switch accounts" option and tried to log Cliff in.  Nothing doing.  I googled the problem, which apparently isn't so uncommon with the Mac, but I didn't understand any of the solutions given.  All of the instructions were way over my head.  

These days I use the iPad most of the time, only going to the computer to pay bills or do blog entries.  So much for whatever I was going to write about in my blog, because now I'm too frustrated to recall what my subject was going to be.  I'm doing this entry with my user account on Cliff's laptop, which has a missing screw and is going to fall apart if I don't take care of that situation at some point.  I've often wondered if my husband had a screw loose; after all, he married me!  

We went to my cousin's graveside service Sunday.  He passed away the evening of the same day I first wrote the double blog entry about him.  It was a nice service, and it was good to see Gerald's children and grandchildren.  

My parents always swore that funerals come in threes.  At my age, I can see why that would be true.  We're dying like flies! 

I sleep fairly well these days, usually getting six to seven hours of shut-eye each night.  I always wake up at least three times nightly, but I generally go back to sleep with no problem.  This week, though, I've been waking up at 2 AM and lying awake until I finally decide to get up.  I blame my lack of sleep on my upcoming vacation.  

For instance, here's what I overthought about this morning:  I take my coffee seriously, and our hostess doesn't drink coffee.  I have a travel coffee grinder and a coffee press, and seldom use either.  But they don't take up a lot of room, so I packed them for my trip, along with a baggie of coffee beans.  Then I thought to myself, "I could probably buy coffee beans in Mexico.  Isn't that where Juan Valdez is from?"  But wait, I like creamer in my coffee; so I filled a container with Coffeemate and packed that too.  At 2 this morning it occurred to me that I will be carrying a "powdered substance" in my baggage.  Does coffee creamer look like cocaine?  Is it possible it will be seized as a possible drug?  Do they even sell Coffeemate in Cozumel?  Because I wouldn't mind buying it.   But there are no graham crackers there... I know this because Brooke told my daughter to bring graham crackers with us so we can have S'mores on the beach.  So maybe there's no coffee creamer either.  

After I was done worrying about that, I started thinking about my passport.  One of the papers that came with it suggested I sign it immediately, but I see no place for a signature.  Am I supposed to just autograph it anywhere?  

And then for awhile I pondered those little poisonous creatures on the beach that bite people; what about them?  Will they be a problem?

You can see how ridiculous this is.  Now, one would think that I could just meditate my way out of this cycle of worrying, right?  I meditate every morning and feel much better for it, so much so that I make it a priority.  So why not meditate my way out of this worrying in the middle of the night?  For some reason I just can't get into meditation while lying in bed; I've tried.  Maybe if I'd just get up, go to my usual meditation chair, and let go of my concerns; but then I'd be wide awake when I was done, and I really, really want to sleep.  

Tonight I'll have something else to worry about when I wake up:  I'm locked out of my computer!

 Yesterday I sent my daughter a rambling message like this:  "how much cash should I take along... can I use a credit card down there... I'll pay the airport parking... never mind, I called the credit card company... does Brooke have Internet... oh yeah I remember we talked about that..."

Yeah.  And that's only half of my one-sided conversation to myself that my daughter had to attempt to decipher.  

So wish me luck, as well as my daughter and her husband.  I hope I remember to take a sleep aid of some sort tonight.