Quietly, in the background where y'all cant see it, Casa Akabini has been hurtling into the twenty-first century.
First, there was the new cell phone, because late last month I thought I'd lost my phone somewhere at the shop. In the ensuing days of phonelessness, I was prompted to call up Verizon and ask them if I were due for an upgrade. Sho 'nuff, I was overdue -- FOUR YEARS overdue.
(Okay, so maybe I don't like change.)
(*Of course* I got it because it was orange.)
Then, Boyhood and I sprang for a new Airport Extreme when we were down in The Land of Apple for a weekend trip... and managed to install and configure it our very own selves, even down to remote wireless printing from either computer to either printer.
Now that's some space-age technology.
At this point (about a week ago), we were feeling pretty smug: Himself had gotten a new cell phone, too - one he doesn't feel like bashing with a hammer 12 times daily, and we were printing and wirelessly surfing and texting on our new phones...
And then yesterday morning, I was brought face to face with that Greek term: HUBRIS.
For lo, my trusty laptop, holder of all my secrets, keeper of all my pixels, guardian of my most private thoughts (and Quicken accounts!) - BRICKED.
Just plain wouldn't restart.
Zilch, nada, nessun dorma.
Gray screen, Apple logo, and spinning gear of doom.
You don't notice how much you depend on something staying the same until it's just plain not there.
And now, of course, I'm realizing some vulnerabilities in my systems: like how can I print patterns and fill orders while it's down?
I have some workarounds that are possible, like loading the software onto Boy's computer here, but they're clunky and would require hours of work.
So before y'all get too concerned, let me reassure you:
* I back up onto a remote hard drive DAILY. (Lessons from the Harlot's recent bricking were taken to heart.) (Thank god.)
* I have an appointment this afternoon a my nearest Apple store (a mere 2 hours away) with a Genius at the Genius Bar to see if he can shock it to life. (I'm imagining paddles, like in House, M.D.: "Clear!")
So, all things considered, it could be worse.
I keep telling myself that.
Maybe this afternoon, I'll believe it.
me us luck!