I Am a Plague to Technology: #TruthTuesday

Technology has never been my strong suit, but over the years, I have braved the trenches and powered through my tech disadvantages. Unfortunately, there have been many casualties along the way. Last week was one of the worst battles in my war with technology, and the losses were many. If you are squeamish, I suggest turning away. Okay, that’s actually hyperbole. It’s not that bad… or is it?

Last Wednesday:

In the afternoon, I was editing my YouTube video for my Coffee Break Book Reviews episode. I was almost done. All I had left was to add some music behind my audio because I don’t like hearing myself breathing as I talk. (I know I could snip out all of my breathing while editing the video, but that’s a lot of work, and I actually don’t like how choppy it makes the video appear.) So, I dragged down the song I was going to add to the background of my audio, when the unthinkable occurred.

Dun dun dun…

The video stopped playing and only the audio appeared. I had worked on this video for over five hours (not in the same day), and I legit had five minutes left before I exported it. Tragedy of tragedies. My breath caught in my throat. I stammered nonsensically as my eyes blinked back ugly tears.

“Babe,” I cried out to my husband. “I just messed up my video, and there is no back button. There is no back button on iMovie. Why is there no back button?”

He walked up the stairs at a snail’s pace, at least that’s what it felt like, and said the worst thing he could say to me.

“Calm down.”

Ugh, didn’t he know that life as I knew it was ending? Calm down! You calm down, Mister.

He then worked his techie magic, turned off the wifi, and restarted our Mac. Somehow his voodoo worked, and I was able to salvage my video. You would think that would be enough of a scare, right? Hold onto your pantaloons, dear reader, because I’m just getting started.

Last Thursday:

The next day, after working for three more hours on another video on my laptop, my twelve-year-old son needed to do his distance learning. My husband asked if our son could use my computer to get his school work done, since he (the hubby) had to get some work done. I agreed, helped my son get onto his Google Classroom, and I settled in on the couch to peruse Instagram. Fifteen minutes later, all chaos erupted in my semi-calm home.

“Mom, your computer screen just went black,” my son said.

“That’s weird. Did the low battery warning come on?” I asked him.

“Oh, yeah, that came on a long time ago,” he said in a nonchalant tone.

I stared at him for a second. “Well, then why didn’t you get the charger?”

He shrugged: the typical signal of pre-teen boredom.

I stood up, shaking my head for good measure, and proceeded to plug in my laptop. Nothing. The computer would not turn on. A slight panic arose in my heart. “What were you doing before the computer screen went black?”

“Watching a video?”

“What video?” I asked with a deep sigh.

He gave me the same pre-teen shrug as before.

“Sean…” I took another deep breath through flared nostrils. “What video did you click on?”

“The video my teacher linked to our Google Classroom.”

Absolute terror infiltrated my mind. Did he click on a virus? I had a lot of work on my laptop that I hadn’t backed up. (Yes, I know I should have backed it up… but… I’m lazy.)

“Um, I really hope you didn’t click on a virus. I have work I didn’t back up.”

“You should always back up your work,” he said, smirking with all his pre-teen judgment.

My right eye twitched. “You should… um… probably go… do some… silent reading.” My eye twitch must have been contagious because it developed in both of my eyes and trickled down toward my hands.

After another shrug from said pre-teen, he yawned and faced me. “When’s lunch?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” I practically barked. “First of all, it’s 9:30 in the morning, and you just ate breakfast an hour ago. Second of all, my computer is dead, and I need to figure this out, so I can get my work backed up.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t back up your work,” he argued.

I legit had to count to ten. (Of course he was right, I should have backed up my work, but if he would have plugged my computer in when he got the low battery signal, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess.) Then, I did the best thing I could do. I walked away, albeit on shaky legs, but I walked away nonetheless.

Last Thursday (right before lunch):

After hours of attempting to recharge my computer, I made a decision to step away for a while and make lunch. I grabbed my Instant Pot, made a vegetable soup, and closed the lid on the pot to pressure cook the crud outta that soup. (I do this often because it makes the soup taste like it’s been simmering all day, when in actuality it’s done in twenty minutes. It’s a win for everyone.) Except something horrible happened. My Instant Pot wouldn’t build pressure. What in the world was going on?

At this point, I was about to run to my room, jump back in bed, and attempt to restart the day. Instead, I called for my husband, once more. With the speed of an ancient tortoise, he entered into the kitchen.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“The… Instant… Pot... won’t build… pressure,” I stammered in disbelief.

He began to laugh, like straight out laugh. “Well, aren’t you having a day?”

Yes, Einstein, I am having a day, I thought, and I was pretty certain that if I was a cartoon character, now would be the time when steam would blow out of my ears.

“Can you just fix the pot?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Relax, it’s not that big of a deal,” he said.

RELAX. Relax… I loathe that word almost as much as I despise the phrase calm down. I inhaled a sharp breath, grabbed my huge soup pot from a cabinet, and poured the soup into it. A second later, I had the pot simmering on the stove.

“I’m going to take a bath,” I seethed, which is code for leave me the heck alone.

My husband nodded his head in response. Apparently he caught the drift, or perhaps the twitching in my eyes, hands, and now my face, was enough of a clue to help him realize I needed some space.

In the bath, I allowed myself to cry. I cried for my almost ruined video. I cried for my broke down lap top. I cried for my work that I may lose off of my hard drive. I cried for my pressure-less pressure cooker.

I cried. I cried. I cried… and then, I saw the absurdity of it all, and I laughed.

I laughed until my eyes crinkled at the sides. I laughed until I snorted. I laughed because sometimes that’s all you can do.

Today:

It’s been five days since I gave my technology the plague.

Yesterday, I went down to my district office and exchanged my dead laptop for a new one. The technician tried to charge my old laptop with a new chord, but it wouldn’t wake up. I had resigned myself to losing my work, and I was ready to redo the video I was working on.

Today, I got a call from another technician in my district. He said he was able to recharge my laptop. Apparently the charger was filled with some type of fruity liquid, and it went kaput. My laptop was dead because the battery had drained.

Tomorrow, I get to pick up my old laptop. My work is not lost, and, yes, dear reader, I plan on backing it up.

The moral of this story is two fold: first, always back up your work, and second, never allow your pre-teen to drink fruity liquids near your laptop or charger.

Oy vey!