This morning I drove up La Cholla Boulevard, listening to my phone’s navigation system pronounce the streetname with a wild disregard for dialectical accuracy (she said “la chol-la,” instead of “la choy-a”) and wondering what else my phone has said to me that is incorrect.
Ten minutes later, I got a CT scan of my inner ear bones, so technology is pretty much amazing, isn’t it?
I feel tired and weird from antibiotics, so how about this?
This weekend I stared out over a Mount Lemmon vista and read the beginning of My Brilliant Friend, because sometimes life is just that good. Paul sat with me, and Dave hiked a bit farther than Paul or I cared to. Maybe next weekend I’ll sit on another mountaintop with another Elena Ferrante novel and the same dog. But maybe I’ll do something else instead.