The last several days have been trying.  That’s true for many reasons, but one stands out above the rest: Computer problems!

It’s not been a complete meltdown by any stretch of the imagination.  It has been problematic.

And I’m a self-titled computer expert.  What’s that about?

Well, the answer remains quite clear: I’m terribly hard on computers.

Yes, it’s true.  I abuse my technology and make it do what I want when I want how I want.

As someone in the industry, I find it distressing that such modern wonders aren’t held to the high standards to which we hold other things.  You know, like cars.  And food.  And other stuff.

That’s right, poppets.  I’d like to know why we have to agree to a contract with a trillion words in it before we can install a piece of software.  In those contracts we find ourselves bound to limitations on almost every right we have—essentially giving up all redress and recourse for whatever mayhem and disasters are inflicted upon us.

And we agree to it!  What’s wrong with us?

Ultimately, I began having problems with my laptop last week.  The issues grew progressively as time marched on.

I’ve spent the last several days trying percussive maintenance blended with strategic know-how.

Over the weekend, I finally rebuilt the notebook.  What a tedious nightmare…

It was necessary, though.  As I mentioned to Jenny the other day, it got to the point where all my icons kept disappearing.  Each time I’d pass the mouse over an icon, it would vanish.  Poof!  Gone.  It wouldn’t come back until after I rebooted, and even then only half the icons would show up.  Each boot created a whole different experience so far as what I could access and what I couldn’t.

One might think that an entertaining notion so long as it was happening to someone else.  One would be wrong in making that assumption.  Very wrong.

But wait!  There’s more!  Behind door number two we have this fabulous prize…

It’s an e-mail problem!

That’s right, contestants.  My e-mail grew increasingly ill with little tantrums and constantly telling me I’d not closed my data file correctly and it needed to be repaired.

And my response?  “You closed the damned data file, you stupid idiotic POS!”

It helped only momentarily.

Oh, and my newsreader exploded.  Not just once.  Twice!

I could bore you with more of the drama.  But I won’t.

I suspect the issues were cumulative.  With constant use and all sorts of software packages installed and upgraded and patched and installed again so I could start the process over, I’m sure there was a real mess under the hood.  Temporary reprieves could be attained by jiggling this hose or tightening that belt, yet I was only delaying the inevitable… as I discovered Friday when it finally rolled onto its back, pointed its curled toes in the air, and breathed one last time.

Anyway, there wasn’t really a point to the story other than to explain why the last few days have been marked by paucity.  Now that I’m up and running again, I have the grueling task of configuring everything to get me back to where I was.  In due time…