The day started magnificently as brilliant rays of sunshine penetrated the living room window, hinting at the necessity to clean soon. I smiled and put the task on my mental to-do list. The sunshine was a lovely reprieve after the rains and the chilly temperatures. All seemed well.
Still shimmering from last week’s Write! Canada Conference, my motivation was high and I was keen to get marketing my new book; I had blogs to write, articles to complete and my regular column to attend to.
Last evening as I flitted from Facebook to email; from blogs to my idea file [as my brain is wont to do] I noticed a random toolbar that had somehow attached itself to my Google homepage. I cannot stand clutter in my techno space unless it is intentional clutter, and I hadn't a clue how it had attached itself – supposedly uninvited. I wanted to eliminate it.
Long story short, it seems some things are harder to get rid of than others. Sometimes I can be creating a lengthy Facebook post or a thoughtful response to another ‘friend’s’ post, and for no obvious reason other than my sausage fingers, it disappears in a wink without warning.
But the doggone toolbar, which I didn’t even invite on board, was not going anywhere. I tried everything. I searched high and low in the add and install programs part numerous times. I finally came across something that looked suspect, so in my impatience to zap the annoying toolbar into cyberspace, I clicked on uninstall. When it opened I panicked for a split second thinking I might be messing where I shouldn't. I pressed cancel and then basically gave up, resigning myself to thinking that I would ask someone later who might be more in the know. It was bedtime anyway.
I finally gathered my wits and started to plan. I decided it was time to implement the rule of three that I usually do when in computer panic:
2. Call Gilles and go through a tirade of 'what ifs' and how my writing life is over because everything I need is on my laptop
3. Call Ben. Ben is the sweetest, nicest, most patient technological master ever
I am sure when Ben hears my voice, he rolls his eyes. I am almost positive when I call he sits down because he knows there is going to be a long, dramatic song and dance as I try to explain what happened.
So this afternoon I will entrust my laptop baby to Ben, who said he will more than likely recover much if not everything [Does he know I had 7,000+ emails?] He told me not to panic; he said it was highly unlikely that I lost everything. He's a nice fellow, that Ben guy. His calming ways is a nice balance to my Tigger type personality.
Meanwhile my techno life continues on my desk top and Blackberry. But all the important stuff is on my laptop. What if...
Okay that's it. Where's the Windex? I'm gonna go clean some windows!
8 comments:
Glynnis...I feel your pain...I've spent hours today trying to recover thousands of emails that perished when my Outlook decided not to open. In the end they're all gone, along with the responsibility to deal with them, and there's a certain freedom in that. Hope your IT guy is able to help you get back your most important docs.
Hey there, Glynnis - what a pleasure it was to meet you at Write! Canada and now I get the pleasure of reading your words! Isn't it depressing how dependent we are on technology? Some days I just have to say, "NO!" and go outside to remind myself that there's a whole big world out there and I should not be satisfied to live my life in front of a screen.
Oh my, Glynis! That's a horrible, frustrating and disconcerting experience for a non cyber-techie person (as I also am).
I do hope your important docs etc., are recovered.
(Hmm,I wouldn't wonder if you have the cleanest, most sparkling windows in town!)
~~+~~
Thanks, Kathleen for commiserating. There is just something about that comfort in numbers thing. :) I am so sorry that you lost all your emails. Aaaargh...(but I think I understand that freedom point you made! I was clinging to that thought just in case!) I am so thankful, though, that Ben was able to get everything reinstalled and nothing disappeared.
Funny how life goes on, though, huh?
Hi Alanna. It was SO nice to meet you at the conference, too! And now you get to read what a nitwit I am! It's the story of my life. Oh well, at least I never run out of things to write about.
I sure hope you are managing to find time to write now that you are hopefully back to normal (whatever that is!) Blessings...
Funny, Peter. I now have an obsession with clean windows. Just this morning I cleaned both Gilles' and my office windows! Could it be a sign? P.S. Ben came to the rescue and saved all my 'schtuff!' Soooo thankful.
My mind must be in metaphor mode, as I keep thinking clean windows... does that mean your computer windows will be cleaned of the annoying, marauding toolbar, or does it mean your computer windows are now so clean nothing's there at all. I hope you got it all sorted out. Too bad you don't live close. Next time you go into computer hyper-mode you could come clean my windows (the real ones). :)
Diana
Hahaha, Metaphor Queen Diana! That is funny. No I do NOT want sparkling clean wiped out Windows - technologically speaking! That was a very funny way of looking at it, though. Yup' I am talking panes of glass! And if I lived closer, I would clean your windows, although I hope I don't ever go into computer hyper mode again!
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