Ever since I had my power surge laptop fiasco, I've resorted to using a dinosaur computer that functions at the speed of a lethargic sedentary snail. I've made it no secret how much this irks me. I get impatient with the way it slowly opens programs and loads pages. I chide it for not possessing the savvy a younger model would have.
I admit that I am not very understanding with it. I'm quite vocal about my expectations for it. And I'm not very polite with it, either...
As a rule of logic, people and grandpa computers can only withstand ill-treatment to a certain point.
This morning, as I sat down in front of my decrepit computer with my coffee, I pushed in its "On" button. The lights flashed on the screen.
Then this message came appeared.
I should have known. You reap what you sow. I only had it coming, after all.
I couldn't spend the day moping. I needed to continue with my morning. I took a deep breath, finished drinking my coffee and got ready to drive to the French consulate to pick up my passport. To my great surprise, the picture that was scanned into the visa was not the one that I provided to the receptionist with my paperwork but the one that the consulate had taken during my appointment. That day, I had not even bothered to put on much make-up nor did I fix my hair.
I didn't say the surprise was a good one. --.--"
Great. I am now stuck showing the French authorities proof of just how lazy I can be with my hair.
After a trip to a supermarket, I drove home and had my lunch. Worry kept nagging away at me. I went to see if my computer had decided to end its strike.
Nothing.
I couldn't take it. I began to plead with it for mercy. I found myself making promises to it.
Then, suddenly, Mr. Computer demonstrates mercy!
Yes, I've had a good lesson reinforced today: I need to respect the elderly under all circumstances. Especially my
decrepit dinosaur computer experienced master of information storage.
Barb the French Bean
