The other day, I had a computer shut down on me, leaving me up in the air with a gazillion things to get done. Actually signing on to my email accounts instead of letting my organizer –one piece of software I cannot do without – do all the signing on for me, takes up agonizing minutes.
On any given day, little popup reminders tell me to call the dentist, call a lawyer, call the chief and the candlestick maker. So, when my computer decided to go on a cloud within my hard drive and kiss my demands goodbye, I was actually a little relieved. Ahh, finally an excuse not to get anything done.
Needless to say, the IT guy ripped out my hard drive and put it back in a nice casing, and voila, all my files are back, just the way I left them. However, this may put some strain on my laptop, which now has to bear the brunt of my keyboard kicking ways. Alas, my poor desktop, may you be recycled in peace.
After a delay of a few hours, I was back in order, ready to tackle anything digital thrown my way. But the emails never came, not even spam made its way to my trusty organizer. What the heck I mutter, ahhh, sooo, it’s my passwords which my ever dependable software kept hidden from my eyes and feeble human memory. Another phone call to the IT guy and again, I make my machine work.
Red flags suddenly appear. What is it now? Ahhh, my anti-virus is down and needs to be renewed and asks for the password. Another call to the IT guy, who ends up just emailing me what to do in this case. Finally, everything seems to be working again and I begrudgingly get back to the grind of work.
Then, the internet goes off line. I give in and do it the old-fashioned way with the fax machine. I get a call back asking for the vital document again, because for some reason, the long distance doesn’t work. I hop on the vehicle to hand deliver everything, just to discover empty offices. What is it with today!
I take a breather and notice that a south wind is blowing and the distant honk of Canada geese filters to my hardwired ears. The fax runs out of paper and no one is around to point out where more is. Somewhere, someone’s telephone rings out and the robot answering machine hangs up mid-message.
I leave the office in somewhat of a wandering mode, not sure where to go next. My cellphone rings and I’m asked to do some technological stuff at the back of some rack full of buzzing hardware. My minds slips into hibernation mode then quickly resurrects itself in spring goose hunting mode.
My computer bag gets replaced by a bag of shells, and the company vehicle gets traded in for my ATV. My tires leave a dusty trail towards the goose blinds up the coast. My throat is tested for goose calling and my cellphone gives its final beep telling me that there is no signal. The goose blind awaits the trigger-happy computer guy….
