Bad Mac

My computer decided to fill up the hard drive. Being such a nice machine it gave me no advance notice, as it didn't really want to bother me with such a small inconsequential thing as no computer access.

Life in a small town does not accord people the option of just driving to the nearest computer shop, dropping off the broken machine, and returning to pick it up, all fixed. Nope, not in my town.

First I drove around to locate the computer store, which by the way is also the phone/fax/copy store. Went in. Talked to the Apple specialist dude. He is the only Apple dude in 100 miles. 100 miles! no one else. Made arrangements to drop off the ailing machine. Drove home. Drove back. Apple dude had been fired.

I kid you not. In that short amount of time, fired. No idea why. Now we have no one in 100 miles. Dropped it off with someone I am pretty sure was in junior high last year. Explained the problem. Explained the problem again. Explained the problem again and with some poorly drawn stick computers showing said problems. Explained the problem loudly and with hand gestures. Finally a small light bulb, probably a 1-1/2 watt, went off, I was instructed to leave it and could expect a phone call when it was ready.

Drove home.

Found a message on my phone, it was fixed. I live 10 minutes with TRAFFIC from the computer store. Had a cold drink. Did some breathing exercises. Tried to find a zen attitude. Called back. Explained the problem. Would have tried explaining the problem in a foreign language if I spoke one. Started to hyperventilate. Asked for someone else, anyone, anyone. Next person seemed to at least understand said problem. Would call me when it was fixed.

Two hours went by with no call and I took that as a good sign. Two weeks went by with no call, good sign had long since dissipated. Two weeks and four days, the call finally arrived.

Drove over yesterday and picked it up. Paid a small fortune. Drove home and fired up the baby. Used my password, the mac shook its little password box back and forth to make a giant NO. Thought I had been away so long that I had forgotten my own password, looked it up, typed it again, again with the giant NO. This time I thought it really was giving me some serious attitude. On and on this went, me typing, mac denying me access, each time with a little bit more mocking and judging. I ended up in the dining room, crying about the unfairness of life while two dogs thought I had seriously lost my friggin mind.

Called the computer store. Twenty-seven hours later I retrieved my new password with a jaunty laugh and an Oops, so sorry, probably should have told you I changed all the passwords. My new password:

password. Yep, no one is going to guess that one in a million years.