I hate computers. I mean, I love computers, but I also really hate them.
There is one certain process that will always make me want to scream. I have had to do it several times and each time it has taken HOURS to accomplish--if it ever is. Tonight, here I am, doing it again. It is saving . . . again . . . and it takes a long time to save for some infuriating reason.
I have watched all videos sent by loving e-mailers. I have caught up on reading everyone's blog. I have even watched highlights from Ellen and other TV must sees (that I never see). The file is only 17% saved.
Forget it. It froze . . . again.
You see, the problem with computers is that we have come to rely on them and they know that! It's like when Pa and Ma Ingalls had learned to rely on the railroad for coal and food so when the train got stuck in an avalanche in October and couldn't be dug out until April, they all nearly died. They twisted and burned hay and ground wheat kernels in a coffee grinder all day to obtain enough flour to have bread. There was nothing they could do but wait. Here I am, on the brink of a brain hemorrhage and there is nothing I can do but wait.
The whole time computers would have us believe that they can't be reasoned with or cajoled, convinced, tricked or coerced into performing the commands you desire, they are laughing their britches off inside that little box. I know because I can hear them. They are loving this!
You can try beating it out of them--that works because you usually have to get a new, updated, unbuggy (totally a word) computer, but it is an expensive option.
It is now 89% saved. It sound close, but I don't believe it. As soon as I try the saved version on another device, it won't work. I know it. It tells me to insert a blank disk. Why do they need a blank disc? This one only has about 1% of its memory used. New disk is the wrong kind of disk, but it is the same kind of disk I have used for this application many times before. From the same package, even.
Can you hear me screaming now?
Well, I'm not because all of the family is asleep. I should be asleep. But I am not. I am trying to persuade those damn little men inside the black box at my feet to help me out.
I'm sorry. Does it count as a swear if you write it?
Something is happening. Something promising. I think that did it! They love me, those little guys. Must have been the tiny new clothes I made and left out for them by secret. Justin even made them each a tiny pair of shoes.
The little rascals.