How Far We Have Come

And how far we have yet to go. I am so frustrated, nearly furious really, at ...well I think it is my computer. Possibly it could be my ISP, potentially, technically, I guess it could be me (frustrated grimace here). In a fine fit of furry so unlike me (no, really), I would love to throw something - break something. The long and the short of it is that I have spent a great deal of time recently dealing with computer issues. I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a computer expert. Gibbering jellyfish! I am not even a wanna be computer expert. I just want to turn it on and go. I am a responsible owner, I have all the newest updates scheduled to download and install automatically. What more need I do? Just turn it on and go, I say. Ha! Not bloody likely in this lifetime.

Our desktop computer is about 5 years (or so) old. We expanded the memory and have never had less than 39% free space available. Some of the problems I blame on our not having a fast and reliable connection to the Internet. Countless times the connection speed or the lack of one has interrupted windows downloads. We have a satellite connection that is very erratic. One moment it flies along smoothly and the next it is crawling more slowly than a bad dial-up connection. They blame it on the weather, please! The weather hasn't been consistently wonky in one specific area for nearly two months now. That's how long this hit and miss connection thing has been going on. And don't even let me get up a head of steam about BITS! Arrgh!

I know, your heart bleeds for me :) thank you. You know how it is. My husband is quite as capable as I at fighting the beast, CIDCH (computer Internet download connection heathen). Don is just way smarter than I am. He will mutter and groan and get frustrated that it isn't working correctly and then he gets up and walks away. He comes back and tries it again a few hours later or maybe the next day, if he looks in and sees me hunched over the monitor, mumbling in some strange language a voodoo curse, hair spiked straight out, drool dripping from my chin with a bottle of Visine and a cup of stale coffee at one elbow and therapeutic magnetic strips strapped to the other. In that case, he just quietly turns around and heads for the basement. I wonder, does he do that because he wants to relax in the media room or does he do it for safety reasons, in case I accidentally blow the dag-on computer up? At any rate, he doesn't spend hours trying to help this thing gimp along, he lets me do it. Yes, the man is definitely smart.

Good gracious. I am sorry. I did not mean to whine and cry about my computer problems. I will be honest though, I feel a little better for having gotten all of that out.

There is always hope.

Betty