Quote: “Maybe you left them in your car.” – nice lady at the post office.
Please notice that the design of this blog has changed. No really, PLEASE NOTICE. I assure you that it was a struggle. First I had to tap my foot and drum my fingers and whine, “But, I don’t know HOW to send e-mail notifications when I update this blog.” Then, after a vigorous wrestling match with my internal resistance, I fixed my hair, took a deep breath, and girded my loins. Because technology does not love me. Even my minivan door mocks me by pretending to shut while I stand there, and then OPENING ITSELF the moment I turn my back to walk into the library. Technology is supposed to make our lives easier, but honestly I long for the days when Pluto was still a planet.
Earlier this week I filled out the registration form for the Gettysburg Writers’ Conference. The form was online in Adobe. There was a clear warning sign that you CANNOT SAVE CHANGES to the document. BUT, at the top of the registration form it equally clearly stated the e-mail address to submit form, sample of writing, and statement of attendance. Okay. So, I’m operating under the understanding that e-mailing this form IS POSSIBLE. I fill out the form. Now what? I scroll over the icon choices. This is like a labyrinth! Convent to a PDF takes me to a whole new website. That’s alright, I’ll just download the form to my desktop.
All my answers erased.
BUT THAT’S OKAY. Because I knew my adversary and I had PRINTED IT OUT. Re- fill in the answers on my desktop form. Now what?
CANNOT SAVE CHANGES.
Okaaaay. I select the ‘e-mail this document’ option. Now I’ve got you, computer.
Computer laughs at me. FREEZES.
Outside it is seventy degrees and my babysitter and twins are frolicking and gamboling. I need them to know that I am suffering in here so I go outside and bring them into my (semi-) orderly study to show my babysitter, whose native language is NOT EVEN ENGLISH this computer gibberish. She looks at it. Shrugs her shoulders, but I feel vindicated. I print out the rest of the documents and look for a mailing envelope. Which I don’t have. So I go to the store and buy a pack. To come home and address the envelope and get back in my car and drive to the post office. I pay $1.30 to mail the whole thing and am ready to get home because I’ve spent HOURS NOW on this one task of my to-do list.
I can’t find my keys. So I can’t leave. And the lady behind the counter and the line behind me…everyone starts looking around this tiny post office for my keys. And I’m dying of embarrassment and wondering whether I can walk home. “Maybe they are in your car?” one woman suggests. And I nod and escape and go out to my car wondering if they are in there, should I break a window to get them out and if so, with what should I break said window. But, never fear, the driver’s side window is down. The keys are in the car. In the ignition. AND MY CAR IS RUNNING.
“Did you find them?”asks helpful postal customer as she walks past. “Yes! Thank you.” Smile, wait for her to drive away. Bang head against car frame, get back in, put the key back in, re-start the car and drive home.
I tell you about this task that should have taken fifteen minutes AT THE MOST so you can appreciate how much that little white box at the top – the one that says ‘subscribe’ and you enter your e-mail address – extracted from me. How I had to go to RSS Feed for idiots (and how can RSS stand for both Really Simple Syndication AND Rich Site Summary? Really? Pick one) and then youtube and then STILL struggle to even get myself signed up for my own blog. But I did it. For you.
Please understand how much I love you, dear Reader. And comment on the fish. They might be dead soon, I’m not sure if I was supposed to download fish food.