Computer complications

The Christmas decorations are still up—we leave them until Epiphany—but otherwise I’m almost caught up from Christmas. Today, December 30, is one of those in-between days—not a holiday but a nothing day sandwiched between holidays. Hard to tell yourself to buckle down to work when the next holiday looms. But I have made a dent on the pile on my desk and am ready to get back to my various projects.

I had a tough lesson the other night about how much my daily life revolves around my computer. I tried to log on about ten o’clock at night but couldn’t get in. The screen showed the space for my code already filled in and flashed to the message that the code was incorrect, but it wouldn’t let me erase the incorrect code. It just kept entering strings of the number 2. Luckily, I had enough sense to know that it was late, I’d had a bit of wine, and things would look different in the morning.

But I sure had a sleepless night, worrying about the computer. At one point, I convinced myself I’d been hacked, and someone was making off with all my banking information even as I tossed and turned in bed. Then I thought it was malicious hacking—someone unknown who gets jollies from messing up people’s computers. What if it wiped out everything? I began to catalog what I’d lose—the final version of my current work-in-progress is with my editor for safe keeping (thank goodness!), a lot of my work is backed up in Dropbox, the blogs are available online. But all those family pictures from the last twenty years! And the manuscripts of my cookbooks—now I’d have to go to the actual book and retype to fix a dish. And a host of individual files I didn’t remember and wouldn’t miss until I wanted them.

Finally towards morning I slept fitfully and dreamt—of computers, of course.

Next morning, I avoided the computer. I didn’t want to know if it was going to do the same thing over again. But there was a glimmer of hope. Just before I turned it off, I got a message that said, “Something went wrong. Please try again later.” Well, morning was for sure later. I made tea, straightened the kitchen, talked to the dog—and finally took a deep breath and booted the computer. It started! I had to change my password—took a couple of tries—but finally I was in.

Still, it was wonky, still giving me strings of the number 2 and jumping all over when I tried to scroll down a list of files. In a moment of inspiration,  I abandoned the remote keyboard and opened the laptop to work on the real keyboard. Magic! Everything was fine. So now I’m working on the laptop, with the lid only partly open so that I can see the remote monitor—it’s like taking a blind typing test all those years ago in high school typing class (probably the most useful class I ever took anywhere). A new keyboard is scheduled to arrive today or tomorrow, so my computer complication was not the end of the world. But it was a close call.

I don’t necessarily want to become less dependent—I don’t think that’s possible—but I want a better insurance program. There are two experts in the family and several who are knowledgeable. One son-in-law  has a graduate degree in software engineering, and my oldest granddaughter works in the genius bar at an Apple Store. I guess I should ask for help. I don’t want any more sleepless nights.