Now you may know that I am not one to exaggerate or anything like that, but for the last 48 hours my life has indeed fallen apart. Nobody has died, that I know of. (Well, how would you word that sentence without ending on a preposition?) Nobody has lost their job, or if I have I haven’t received the letter yet. My children are still doing what they do and the least I know about that the better. So what is the reason for my life falling apart, I hear you cry?
My computer is broken. And being the age I am, I can’t even remember back 48 hours to what caused it. Was it a print command? Did I try to do two things together too quickly? (This is not a brand new shiny computer, no, this is an XP computer and it was the new thing when I got it.) Anyway, whatever I did, it began to run very slowly and wouldn’t print. Nor could I get into whatisname where the Printers thingy is kept. So I switched it off and had a few words with it.
Yesterday I didn’t have it on until tea time when it kept asking me to report things to Microsoft which I did to no avail. So what’s the point of that then, if they’re not going to fix it? Spooler SubSystem App has encountered a problem… The print spooler service is not running… Duh? Ctrl/Alt/Delete did no good whatsoever and that’s my only remedy. (Speaking of which, I even went out and bought some Rescue Remedy which gave me a nice hit of brandy but did nothing for the computer whatsoever. ) Then I wondered if Rita kitten had something to do with it. She does love my desk as a route to the sunny spot on the window-sill and is prone to escaping there, scattering speakers and crucifixes asunder, if Lucy Pussy is chasing her. Had she pulled out a wire? I spent the evening pulling out plugs and putting them back in again.
Today I realise that my life has fallen apart. Without the comfort of my computer I can do nothing. I cannot write sermons, I cannot send emails to groups, I cannot find files and print them off (oh why did I not print it out as soon as I wrote it?). And this is when you kick yourself for downloading DropBox and other such sharing things and then never putting anything in them. I clutch my iPad to my chest as I rock back and forth and wish that I’d bought a keypad for it that meant I didn’t have to type with one purple pointy thing.
I’m now waiting the arrival of Ewan the £52 + VAT per hour computer man. And I’m praying. Hard.