My phone started acting up, so I called Apple support, we pinpointed the problem: It reverted to an ancient account with an old email address I haven’t used in years and has since been closed. The support guy told me I need to get into that account to retrieve the password reset link.
So I attempted the challenge questions, but stumbled. What would I have listed as my favorite job between 1999 and 2003? What was my pet’s name? Did I even have a pet?
Finally I closed my eyes and went back in time to Bellingham and Olympia. Bam, bam, bam! Questions answered, link accessed, phone reset. And back to 2014, New York.
Full of anxiety earlier this week, I found a playlist I made when I was healing after a breakup. Hello, 2011. It was fascinating how the songs brought me right back to my Greenwood neighborhood apartment. I remember so clearly curling up in my green chair — it had a broken arm I wanted to fix — listening to Florence + the Machine. I stared out at the mountains in the distance, listening to Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly.” On good days, I sang along to Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
Listening to those songs from New York felt all wrong. Click to a new playlist and back to 2014, New York.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.