If a computer crashes in a home office and no one is around to witness, does anyone really hear it? Does anyone ever witness the tiny bits of metal and plastic that roll around people’s offices, like twisters spinning wildly through the Midwest?
Well, they do in my head.
Yes, it’s one of those days today – one of those days where being your own technology administrator, a do-it-yourselfer, gets you little else besides gray hair and a knotted stomach. It’s one of those days where it’s not just the hardware giving you grief – no, it’s the triumvirate … the hardware AND the software AND the e-mail.
The computer, a boat anchor at best at this point, is creeping up on ^%$& years old … (I’m ashamed to even say, so I won’t). I’ve cleaned the disk more times than my own house, I’m certain, and defragged so much Elmo would be proud. I store everything on USB drives and back-up my back-ups, just to be sure – doubly sure, triply sure – I don’t lose anything. I’ve become a version-control lunatic.
The software? I’ve taken to getting into the office about 90 minutes early just to give Outlook time to choke itself to life. If it’s not in mid-crash, chances are it simply won’t start. And if it does actually start, its petulant self is prone to “stop responding.”
Wish I could do that.
Finally, the e-mail – the mysterious here-I-am-now-I’m-gone e-mail. A slew of e-mail messages – all from the same person last night – are no where to be found this morning, the fault for which, if you ask my host’s tech support, must clearly lie with me “because it’s absolutely impossible” that the company would delete any messages off any server … this followed by the obligatory kindergarten-level-nails-on-a-chalkboard explanation of how e-mail works on Blackberries and desktops – a process I’m quite familiar with since I set the damn things up. Three calls in, still no answers … and still troubleshooting away, even as I write.
So … the moral of today’s story? Duck, or you may get hit in the face with a touch pad.