The Shooting Star

I spent most of this afternoon sailing out in the ocean with some awesome company. Boy was I delighted to know that I could enjoy such an experience without getting ocean-sick! We then had a riveting feast of quesadillas by the beachfront as we watched avid surfers swishing through humungous waves in the sea. A romantic walk by Mission beach, chilled wine and a scrumptious dinner followed. All with my sweetheart, no less. It was refreshing for me to not have to guzzle gallons of water in a near-dehydration state or bother about popping down to the restroom with a full bladder every freaking hour. Perhaps, such newfound invigoration is the working of the Insulin pump, which I recently moved to - an incontrovertible marvel in comparison with the archaic and tedious model of Insulin syringes. The pump is an antidote that guides me a step closer to being more normal - and farther from the route of falling sick often. At this juncture, I should honestly mention that I never imagined I would be able to afford a pump so soon - at least until I became a bestselling author or something similar, I reckon  - an eventuality that is still quite a way away. Hubby dear felt it would augur well to get upgraded to a more sophisticated system asap. So here I am en route to becoming a better me. This scenario is a classic epitome of love on the threshold of a long and enriching journey I look forward to as the viccissitudes of life roll on. This is the shooting star that glows like an incandescent lantern in the throes of a dark and inky sky.