Saturday, 21 March 2015

Oh technology, thou art a heartless and cruel bitch

I have a confession to make.

I don't read warranty cards.  I don't usually (...ever) fill them out.  It is a miracle if I keep them at all, really.  I have never had anything fixed under warranty.  In my head, I would just take the computer back to the shop, hand it over, and they would deal with it.  That is how I thought it all works.  I don't know how I have managed to survive in this crazy world for 33.5 years. 

The Moose suggested I read the warranty card (clever Moose, he keeps every warranty card and even fills them out and registers them), and so I hauled my ass up the stairs to the office.  At least I knew I had these papers- they had crossed my path while organizing and cleaning a couple of weeks ago.  So I hop onto the Moose's laptop, thinking I need to register my warranty (the Moose meanwhile telling me I should have done that last August when we bought the computer).  A quick look in my little pink book of passwords for shit I don't use on a daily basis revealed I had a user id and password for this, and lo and behold, I did register the bugger!!  Score.

But the service is mail in only.  I need to contact the computer company (Monday through Friday, business hours), who will apparently arrange for a courier service to take it away to where the techno-witchcraft happens.  And five days or so later, it will be returned fixed.  So naturally I decide to just get a wireless mouse and deal with this whole computer business after harvest.  Can't be bothered now.  Harvest time is crazy time working in vineyards.  As in 60+ hours a week and all spare time is spent doing laundry and trying to get the steering wheel of the car less sticky. 

All this I wish I would have discovered before turning the computer on.  Because I had to turn it off.  I should have just left it on for the day.  It would have been waiting for me and the brand new wireless mouse.  But no, I had to try to turn it off, resulting in opening every program except the thingy with the power off button, and ARG.  After ten minutes (but probably more like 5) of growing ever more frustrated, I decide "eh, bugger it" and just hit the power button.  Hard shutdown.  Or something like that.  BAD IDEA.  The computer freaked out a bit, but shut down. 

I went out with the Moose, bought the wireless mouse, and spent the afternoon shopping (for baby clothes) in town and walking about the botanic gardens and sitting on nearly every bench I could find while the Moose played bowls. 

View from one of the many benches I sat on, and bump!  I haven't taken many pics of it.  It is starting to get impressive.  Can't believe I managed to get the shot past the boobs!!  They truly are impressive!!

 Then out to dinner and finally home...

...and then I tried to turn on the computer.  And got a blank screen and a cursor.  AND NOTHING ELSE.  Naturally I proceeded to systematically press every combo of key imaginable on the laptop, managed to shut it down and start it up and NOTHING but that damn blank screen and cursor!!  Figuring I was boned and had probably lost my work files (oops...some of those are found only on my computer...) since I haven't done a proper back up in awhile, I decided to plug in the wireless mouse, and hey!  It worked.  I could now move the cursor around on my blank screen with ease and precision.  So I whipped out the kindle and started googling all combinations of what I thought my problem might be...

...really long and boring story short, closing the lid and opening it again worked and got things running.  Witchcraft, I am sure.  But I have a usable computer again.  But for the record I hate windows 8.

In other news, I had a bit of a freak out earlier in the week.  Bubs went from giving me a few good wallops a day to nothing really noticeable.  I chose to be in denial, but there was this growing sense of dread and a near crying fit.  That doesn't happen often.  There are two songs that can bring me to tears, and probably sad movies which I refuse to watch, otherwise I have about the emotional capacity of a rock.  I thought about calling the midwife, but work got crazy and I have an appointment coming up in just over a week, and anyway, I haven't reached viability yet so what can they do?  But I chose denial instead, and hey, it worked for me.  For the past few days now I am getting those hard kicks again.  Crisis averted.  Panic over.

I've also had a bit of a return of random nausea and crankiness.  I was soooo angry at work the other day.  In fact, I am really put out to lose my three day weekend to bloody harvest (damn you harvest).  Irrationally cranky.  I tweaked something in my back at work on Friday and spent the day hobbling around in pain (the shooting down the leg sciatica type pain too) and getting angry with my boss for no real good reason other than I wanted to stab him in the face for irritating me.  But sleeping on the other side all night last night helped, and I have walked a ton today with no pain!  So I should handle going to work and harvesting tomorrow, even though I am really not happy about it.  

...I just noticed something.  My touchpad is working fine.  WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE???  Seriously, witchcraft?  I just don'<head explodes>.


  1. Windows 8 is the devil. I totally feel you on that one. I have mine set up to resemble Windows 7 as much as possible. I refuse to use the "charms" and all of that other voodoo. They're apparently bringing the start button back for the next incarnation. Thank goodness for that!

  2. P.S. My laptop has squeaky keys today. I can't figure out which ones, just hear the squeak every few keystrokes. It's driving me mad.

    1. oooh, squeaky keys are the worst! Years ago while writing a paper for a university class I spilled a cocktail over my computer. The keys didn't squeak but a few of them stuck after that, and it drove me crazy! I wasn't writing the paper in a bar or anything, it was just before I discovered my love of beer, and after I discovered that one stiff drink can get me over writer's block and get that first paragraph written.