Out of Commission, Out of My Mind

The learning curve on my Mac laptop hit a rather large boulder last week, and I spent some time attempting to figure out if I should go around it, over it, under it, or drop kick the computer off my front porch.

Dependency on a 12″x12″ piece of metal is humiliating, frustrating, embarrassing, maddening, and usually humorless.

I was traveling with a friend (and that is a story yet to be told) over the Easter weekend, and a freaky twist of nature prevented me from receiving any emails.

How does one function without reading emails for 4 days? Not well, I can assure you.

Since this was a  short pleasure trip, I decided to make this a ‘computer free’ experience, accepting the fact that this type of information isolation could require me to increase my intake of anxiety medication.  Tell me, what person in their right mind can sanely function for 4 days without a connection to internet babble? I discovered I either am not in my right mind, I can not function sanely, and/or ‘babble’ comforts my soul.

Once home, I expected my computer to jolt itself back to life, do a joyful flip, and download 300+ emails for me to visually fondle and caress.

No such luck, The poor thing couldn’t get any steam built up to allow me access to my ‘blog fixation’. So, a call to Apple was high on my priority list this morning with the hope of calming my shorted out neurons, or whatever was causing my shortness of breath, unusual heart palpitations, watery eyes (also known as tears of desperation), incoherent mumbling, and uncontrollable desire to break something.

Mr. Drew (that was the name he gave me at the end of the conversation, and I’m certain it was a name he made up so he will never have to talk with me again) was the unlucky fellow to take my hysterical plea for help. He calmly talked me down from my perch on the internet ‘ledge of jumping off’, assured me all would be okay, said a few magic abracadabras, and Voila…my inbox was overflowing with messages I cared nothing about!

Oh, the joy of seeing Facebook posts from people I don’t know. The pure ecstasy of finding links for sexual toys I’ve never heard of. The magic of being reconnected to news sources that tell me the world is doomed.

Yes, my heart is back on an even beat, I’ve refilled my prescription for desperation avoidance, and I’m a happy and internet-dependent blogger. Life, she is good.