I'm a writer. My life is on my computer – my professional life, that is. Two days ago, my computer passed away. Oh it was still here in the physical sense, but it started coughing, wheezing, turning first pale, then green. Yesterday afternoon, I pronounced it dead. My husband called the coroner as he snatched the laptop out of my hands. I was headed toward the deep end of our pool to give it a proper burial. The coroner, or our off-site IT guy, performed an autopsy and blamed corrupt files for the homicide. The corrupt files were caused by the automatic updates Windows does to its crap software, well the crap Vista version of it, anyway. The solution, of course, is to purchase and install Windows 7.
I think this qualifies as a racket, Mr. Gates.
While I was trying to pass the time without my computer, I tried to turn on our TV. We had DirecTV installed in September, and I'm hoping it will work properly someday. It takes, at last count, four remotes to turn the TV on. If you want to change channels or adjust the volume, make that six remotes. If you ever do get the TV on and select a channel you like, the channels arbitrarily change, or the TV simply shuts off for no apparent reason. I gave up after about ten minutes and wondered whether I was beginning to PMS. You know that unexplainable rage that makes you want to murder and fingerpaint at the same time? I was there.
Without TV, I began to cook. I love to cook and bake at this time of year. Before long, I began to feel very hot – sweaty hot, and that will not do. I looked at the downstairs thermostat, and the temperature read "81." Indoors! The temp was set on "72." Long story short, there's a float switch and control board issue. I suspect they're both controlled by either Windows software or DirecTV.
So now I'm panicked, frustrated and sweaty. I would call first if you're thinking of stopping by.