I've decided to keep my toe in the water for the time being; I have some ideas percolating in my brain that I'd like to follow through until fruition.
Yesterday, in the heat of a Texas day - five in the afternoon - my husband and I walked into the American Airlines Center with hopes of moving the seats for our Dallas Mavericks half-season tickets perhaps one section to the left to be more or less smack dab center court - albeit pretty high up. I'm not sure why we bothered.
Every year season ticket holders are invited over a three or four day period to show up at a specified time (ours being 5:20 - 5:40 last evening) to possibly exchange seats. Available seats are taped off in various colors, so we were looking for two pink seats that were better than ours. They didn't exist.
We've gone now three or four times out of all the years we've held partial season tickets, and the only time we've had success in moving to a better section came not from moving within our pay-range, but moving up to the next pay-range. So we knew it was likely a futile adventure, begging the question: Why the hell did I go when I was well into day two of my monthly headache, this time with nausea included? Well, as I told my daughter before leaving home, it hurts and I feel the need to hurl regardless of location, whether at home in a dark room or standing in line for a useless cause in downtown Dallas.
One good thing came of it, though; I realized that the reason my Droid didn't take pictures as clear as my Blackberry even though the camera is supposedly better is because I hadn't realized there was a small piece of plastic film covering the lens. When I bought the phone, the salesman put the protective silicone cover on it immediately, and it wasn't until I peeled it off for shits and giggles that I realized its existence. Hooray for me.
When I woke up this morning, my headache was gone.