Don’t you just want to scream sometimes?
I’m typing this, finally, using my old, familiar word processing software, without making use of all the complicated technology which even my antiquated little computer has access to. When I’m done, I shall cut-and-paste it to the place it needs to be, and eventually all the smoke, mirrors, magic and circuitry that is the internet will beam it out into the multiverse for anyone who likes to read it. Or not, as the case may be. No doubt some people, the ones who buy new equipment every time the Microsoft masters of the universe produce it, will tell me there are newer, shinier, altogether better ways to write a blog post, but I’m happy as I am.
Mostly. Just not today.
I was perfectly happy going my own sweet way until the old familiar software decided to sulk, and I got a Not Responding message on the screen.
Then I decided to check my e-mail, to give the software time to pull itself together – and my internet connectionannounced Error! and refused to fire up when I retried.
Fortunately by the time I’d said a few rude words and thrown harmless stuff at the wall, the word processing thing had got over itself, so at least I can sit here and seethe about it on-screen. But the internet connection is still under the duvet wailing, ‘I don’t wanna play with you.’
But that’s not why I hate technology. I hate technology because it lulls you into a false sense of security for weeks at a time, then, bam, it opens up a big pit in front of you. It teaches you to rely on it, then goes off in a huff and won’t play any more. I have no idea if I’ll be able to access Typepad when I’ve finished ranting, or if I’ll have to post an apology tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever the *&#@*$£^>#* machine deigns to let me in again.
OK, I know. I know. I should lay aside my parsimonious Presbyterian upbringing, flash some plastic and BUY A NEW COMPUTER. But though I thought I’d shaken off those Welsh village origins and joined the real world, this little bit of conditioning seems to linger. I find it very hard to spend money on something new when the old one still works. Even if it only mostly works.
Books, I can buy happily. Holidays (translation: vacations) present no barrier; I actually have a savings account devoted to them. Clothes… Hm. Tricky one. I love that dress, but when would I wear it? Lovely sweater, but it has to be dry-cleaned, and anyway I already have three sweaters.
And technology… Hey, this computer is only three years old; the hard disk is less than half full, and as my mother used to say, there are years of wear in it yet.
Enough. I could rant on for hours. Weeks. Ever. I’d like to say it’s part of the process of convincing myself that paying out for a new computer is as much a necessity to running Crème de la Crime as covering the print bill, but it could just be a rant.
Now: has that blankety-blank internet connection come out of its sulk yet?
PS. Looks like it did. Eventually.
