"Whatever I did to anger the Technology Gods - I take it back... I take it all back!"
I'm not sure if it was the way I looped my shoelaces Friday afternoon or my decision to use the plastic penguin butter knife to slice the bananas over my oatmeal Saturday morning but something I did angered the Technology Gods.
No, I didn't just miff them... I infuriated them.
(I wonder if it was that third dryer sheet? Sure, two work alright but doesn't that mean three is even better?)
It all started after I'd tucked Ruth up into bed and layed down with Ben to watch television. After thirty minutes of whateverwewerewatching he kicked the blanket off in disgust, muttering something about sweating to death, and went to check the thermostat. Turns out, it wasn't all in his head. The house was eighty-one degrees and the air conditioner wouldn't turn on.
I woke up early Sunday morning, hoping to find an air conditioner man who would say something beautiful like, "Of course I can repair your unit today!" but had no such luck... and while searching the internet I realized my laptop was hot to the touch. It burned my fingertips to type on the keys and was very much uncomfortable to rest my hands near the touch pad.
I flipped her over and saw the most horrible sight. Her fan wasn't turning. A few hours later, I came into the kitchen to an even more traumatizing sight...Ben had taken my baby apart and I could see her insides. I almost fainted.
While all of this was going on, I kept telling myself I was going to be okay - that I'm a survivor. Dude, people didn't always have airconditioning and non-stop wireless internet at their fingertips... wait a minute, I DO have non-stop wireless internet at my fingertips. I have a blackberry and she loves me.
(I mentioned angering the Technology Gods, right?)
Sometimes, my blackberry loves me.
Sometimes, my blackberry doesn't.
Last weekend, I picked the wrong flower from the garden and when I was done pulling petals... My blackberry didn't love me. Something about her always knows when I really need her to work for me and that is when she becomes nothing more than a shiny, expensive, paperweight with a qwerty keyboard. Last weekend, as I prayed my laptop wouldn't become the next installation art piece on the scratched up desk in my bedroom, the blackberry took one look at me and declared itself on vacation.
I hate my blackberry because my blackberry hates me.
But it's okay because I'm a survivor. I don't mind the way the sweat runs into my eyes while I write or how my clothes stick to my skin. I think I could get used to it. And really, I have a lot more time on my hands when I'm not permanently leashed to the internet...
So much time, I could spend hours buying groceries. Yes. Hours.
"What do you mean my debit card isn't authorizing?"
...I'd check my account but the blackberry hates me.
...and my laptop is in pieces somewhere in my bedroom.
Ben will have to buy the groceries while I try to call these people.
(finally...the credit union -and a person- tell me the debit system has been down all morning but it would have worked if I'd ran it as credit...seriously?)
But it's okay because the heat's more bearable when you know you've got groceries.
Everything in the refrigerator is sweating?