Summer Clearance
Well, at least I cleaned out the closet.
That’s about the only good thing I can say about Friday, a two-ton, four-alarm fiasco of a day--except of course, for the fact that I got through it alive and managed to stay out of the loony bin.
Yes, it really was that bad.
It started early in the morning when my faithful Apple computer up and croaked on me after years of dedicated service. I pressed the On button, heard the familiar baritone beat, and looked at a shockingly blank screen.
I hit a few buttons, did the on and off routine, and nothing happened.
I felt panic surging through me, but I tried my best to keep my nutsy behavior in check. Check it tonight after work, I told myself, and if it’s still on the fritz bring it to the repair shop. And then I asked, please God, let this be the worst thing to happen me today.
It didn’t quite work out that way.
Absolutely everything I put my hand to promptly went belly-up. I was making stupid mistakes at work. I just could not get a single thing to go right for me.
In The Bag
Naturally my nasty little mind tied all these events into one grand conspiracy, so when that ambulance that pulled alongside of me on Fifth Avenue while I was talking to my auntie on the phone, naturally it was blaring it sirens just to harass me—as opposed to getting some poor sick person to the hospital as quickly as possible.
When the day finally ended I hightailed it home to see if my computer had miraculously come to life, but it was still in a coma. And that’s when I decided to clean out my closet…sort of.
I needed to get the box the computer came in so I could get the serial number and give it to the tech support person at Apple. But there was so much crap in my closet I wasn’t even sure if the box was still there.
That tiny little space was bursting with plastic shopping bags that I keep for garbage and other uses.
For years I just tossed them into the closet without looking. Well, on Friday night I finally looked and was horrified to hell and back. How in God’s holy name did this happen?
It happens when you don’t pay attention, when you let stuff pile up and pretend everything’s okay, when it really isn’t. It was time for a change. I filled two big trash bags with those little plastic buggers and I’m throwing the hell out of my house and my life. And I found my computer box.
Apple couldn’t help me, even though they forced me to listen to 20 minutes of seriously atrocious music. My sister very kindly gave me a lift to the local repair place on Saturday and I’m hoping for some good news from the technician while I write this post on a borrowed laptop.
I think of the junk I keep piled up in my head, all the worries, fears, resentments and other toxic material. It’s time for another cleanup.
That’s about the only good thing I can say about Friday, a two-ton, four-alarm fiasco of a day--except of course, for the fact that I got through it alive and managed to stay out of the loony bin.
Yes, it really was that bad.
It started early in the morning when my faithful Apple computer up and croaked on me after years of dedicated service. I pressed the On button, heard the familiar baritone beat, and looked at a shockingly blank screen.
I hit a few buttons, did the on and off routine, and nothing happened.
I felt panic surging through me, but I tried my best to keep my nutsy behavior in check. Check it tonight after work, I told myself, and if it’s still on the fritz bring it to the repair shop. And then I asked, please God, let this be the worst thing to happen me today.
It didn’t quite work out that way.
Absolutely everything I put my hand to promptly went belly-up. I was making stupid mistakes at work. I just could not get a single thing to go right for me.
In The Bag
Naturally my nasty little mind tied all these events into one grand conspiracy, so when that ambulance that pulled alongside of me on Fifth Avenue while I was talking to my auntie on the phone, naturally it was blaring it sirens just to harass me—as opposed to getting some poor sick person to the hospital as quickly as possible.
When the day finally ended I hightailed it home to see if my computer had miraculously come to life, but it was still in a coma. And that’s when I decided to clean out my closet…sort of.
I needed to get the box the computer came in so I could get the serial number and give it to the tech support person at Apple. But there was so much crap in my closet I wasn’t even sure if the box was still there.
That tiny little space was bursting with plastic shopping bags that I keep for garbage and other uses.
For years I just tossed them into the closet without looking. Well, on Friday night I finally looked and was horrified to hell and back. How in God’s holy name did this happen?
It happens when you don’t pay attention, when you let stuff pile up and pretend everything’s okay, when it really isn’t. It was time for a change. I filled two big trash bags with those little plastic buggers and I’m throwing the hell out of my house and my life. And I found my computer box.
Apple couldn’t help me, even though they forced me to listen to 20 minutes of seriously atrocious music. My sister very kindly gave me a lift to the local repair place on Saturday and I’m hoping for some good news from the technician while I write this post on a borrowed laptop.
I think of the junk I keep piled up in my head, all the worries, fears, resentments and other toxic material. It’s time for another cleanup.
Comments
And isn't it amazing how fast things pile up in a closet?
Have a super week, buddy!
Hope your computer gets fixed and nothing is lost in the process!