P.S. Your Computer is Dead

My computer karma is maladjusted. Neither helping little old ladies across the street nor Zen meditation are going to iron out the wrinkles that warp the electro-techno currents transmitting between me and computers.

It only took Alec about ten minutes to tell me the problem he identified last week is not the what is causing the malfunction today. An hour into his investigation, he threw his hands up in defeat, not being able to diagnose the problem. After a call to his office, we arranged for him to return on Monday with one of his employees who is better versed in these concerns. The worst case scenario (read here, my nightmare) is that the hard drive needs to be replaced. Replacing the drive is not as bad as all that. After spending close to four days, I backed up the three hard drives. What gives me the heebie jeebies is that they will want to take my computer to their office. I have the same feeling when I am in a foreign country and someone wants to “hold on to” my passport. Actually, I had the same sinking feeling when taking my car in for servicing only to be told they needed to “keep it a couple of days”. Okay, I am not trusting. I admit envisioning having my possession held hostage until someone decides to get around to looking at it and then having the time to fix it, is enough bring on a case of hives.

The real stressor is that I have another writing project for Frommer’s. The main computer has the best screen for writing. July 15th will be here too soon with family and friends visiting. Hope they are bringing Zanax.

What this has made me aware of is my habitual movements. Bare minimum, there were three dozen times when I went toward my chair to start something on the computer, but the blank screen like a face without emotion reminded me that this was an impotent task. The emptiness of having to get out of the chair unfulfilled is only outweighed by the fact that I was there at all, not remembering I had no reason to be.

To quench my disappointment, I went grocery shopping for out B and B guests coming tomorrow. After I ordered the sliced ham, getting a half of a kilo, I also wanted to get 1/4 kilo of turkey, but could not think of the word for 1/4 in Hungarian. I passed it by after ruling out doing a 1/2 of a 1/2 pantomime or saying fel/fel. The guests will have to do with cheese and ham.

The diversion for the day was taking my friend Laszlo out for dinner to belatedly celebrate his birthday. His choice was a Thai restaurant. I ordered soup with chicken, coconut milk, and lemongrass and then Pad Thai with pork. The waiter brought me two entrees, although I pointed to the soup. Hungarians can even misunderstand body language.