For an old broad who does quality for the senior discount at Bob Evans, I pride myself in staying on top of technology.
In the past six months, I’ve learned the most amazing things about computers and content management systems. What a far cry from my first feeble attempts as a writer at a manual Underwood typewriter in the newsroom of a small-town daily newspaper in 1971!
I’m a believer in positive affirmations, but today as has tested my patience. Because I’m using a number of different systems, I’m pushing my own little laptop harder than it has ever gone before. Different content management systems work better on different browsers, so I find myself running three different browsers at once sometimes.
Also I’ve found my security software not to be all that I need, and upgraded to a premium account.
First, I tried to order the upgrade online. Should have been simple but the firm wouldn’t take my credit card.
(First Bank of Hooterville is generally accepted everywhere else.)
I called the security folk — conveniently located in North Tajikistan, and they placed the order. They gave me the usual rigmarole about how I will receive an email in a few minutes with the sign-on licensing information, and that I should check my spam folder, yada yada yada.
Remember: positive affirmations. I can do this. I can do this.
The file came through with the purported license attached. It would not open. When I clicked on it, it magically disappeared.
I called back. Can I talk to the person who took my money, which of course has already been processed? Of course not.
I get the third trainee from the left who is in a galaxy far, far away. We are not able to understand each other, and when I asked a question, he says “Sure” but you can tell by his demeanor that he has no freakin’ idea what I’m talking about.
Says he’ll refer me over to “escalating claims” and I’ll hear from them in a few hours.
All is well. This is fine. All will be great. I can do this.
I said, “No, I want this resolved on the phone now.” Before I could asked for HIS phone number I was put on hold. And just praying I didn’t get cut off.
Finally he came back on and said, “we’ll have this resolved soon.”
In ten minutes I received an email identical to the first one. Guess what? I couldn’t open the file.
I responded by email this time. I received the third contact, and guess what, it was a duplication of the second email.
Of course I’m talking to some Spam-Bot (maybe they aren’t that busy over at Open today….she said snarkily) and my issue has not been resolved.
Really, I’m not a person who gets easily excited about things like this. I worked for a Fortune 100 company for nearly a decade out of my home, and if you were going to survive you needed to handle your own computer issues. The Help Center wasn’t open that much, and you either dug yourself out of the snowbank or froze to death.
So I have security software running and that’s fine but I want the Super Dooper Stuff.
I am fine. I am not getting upset. I am working my way out of this snowbank. I can see the bright sunlight above. Or…..
- I have several options. I can throw my laptop through the plate glass window in the living room, but that seems harsh and detrimental to my future employment.
- I can drink heavily, but I really don’t drink. If I’m going to take in sugar. let me quote Buddy from “Elf”, “We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns, and syrup.” Bring on the Peeps, Necco Wafers, Indian corn, and pecan pie.
- I could play toss the cat. Fala, my aging cat, whose nickname today is “Lumpy” probably would let me toss him high up into the air and not even move. While it would delight me, it would probably traumatize him.
- I could poop out on making dinner because I DON’T REALLY feel like it, thus hasty email to husband asking him to stop by O’Charley’s on the way home and pick up the incredibly unhealthy black and bleu salads. The boring turkey cutlets can just wait another night.
So I sit and wait for the license to come, and give myself more positive affirmations.
Maybe while I’m waiting I’ll flagellate myself with my metal pica pole.
Ah, that feels better.