Three strikes and you’re out. If that were true for me as a computer user, well, I’d be long out. Forgotten. Gone. This is because I have something in common with computers. We’re both fragile. It breaks and I break. I break down weeping and frantic. I lose my cool, pace around and think why could this happen again. Curse, pace, curse, pace.
Just ask my wife to testify.
So it happens again. A message to upgrade a program pops up. “Oh, yeah. Okay,” I think. And click. It’s not a virus. I’m not that bad – anymore. It’s a program update, a heavy file. For those in the know about computers that means check things first, clean up, run a Disk Utility or something like that. I just go click. And continue my work. There are deadlines to meet, stories to write. The message comes telling you to restart the computer. “Oh, yeah.” Click.
And that’s it. A half hour later and you’re still waiting for the computer to start back up, getting anxious. Deadlines to meet, stories to write. Not again. Yes, again. The computer’s down and you’re weeping, frantic. You’ve lost your cool and you’re pacing, cursing. Pacing, cursing. All those work files at risk of total loss – and the family photos. The music downloads. The contacts. Everything.
And I think, crap, I’m a moron. Without this technology I wouldn’t be able to live in a pine forest at the beach. So suck it up and admit defeat. You suck at computers but you can learn. You can get better. You can change. So you say to yourself and to your wife, “I promise, I really and truly promise. I’ll never do it again. I’ll be good and get better, improve, do things right, back things up, save it all on a second hard drive.”
Yes, I will. But just let me finish this work first. There are deadlines to meet, stories to write.
And you know you’re doomed.