You Shall Be The Death of Me You Bastard Computer!

I write today to discuss with you my severely challenged issues when it comes to technology. Not even technology, at least not by today’s standards, I’m talking about the simple task of setting up a printer.

I was looking to print the 100 plus pages I have so far in this piece of fiction I am writing. I wanted it as I guide for when I rewrite. Unfortunately we have not had a working printer in over a year. How could that be?! You ask. You’re a writer, surely you need to use your printer on a weekly if not daily basis. Nope, nada- not nowadays in the age of Blogging, Email and of course the infamous Cloud.

However I did need this piece of literature printed, that was, if I were to be serious about certain writing goals I vowed to abide by since reading Stephen Kings on Writing. So I got to work. I had to find the disk that would install the printer onto our computer- I knew that much. Actually I’m lying to you already, my 60 year old mother knew that much and beseechingly tried to explain it to me while I had an outwards hissy fit in front of her and my 6 year old son.

“Sweetheart I’m pretty sure you need to install it to the computer.”

“But it has the Bluetooth- it should already BE linked up.” To this my mother knew to just shut her trap because I would not relinquish- I’m exasperating like that. Eventually after heatedly banging my fists on the contraption- reminiscent of an vexed orang-utan I did relinquish and installed the damn program, which worked, for a little bit.

I was able to get the printer to show up on my computer under the devices section. The actual printer had power coursing through it to which I was able to successfully print the alignment page. Hawzaa for Lindsay! Yet when I attempted to print something off of my word processor nothing happened. Quite literally NOTHING happened. Not so much as a click of a copier reel or a Bing of an error message. Nothing.

By this time I was sure that the entrails of my brains had begun spilling out of my ears as I trolled athwart the living room floor rocking to the horrific sound of oblivion. It’s all over now. At some point throughout the ordeal Mother Dear took Lars and left. She might have possibly left me a note saying she was taking him for the night and not to forget to pick Sophie up from school. Or perhaps in my technology stupor I picked up on the information through sheer telepathic awareness.

The point is I was completely alone now. And I used that solitude as best I knew how. There I was flailing my arms asking the high heavens why things just couldn’t be easy for me. Tears of frustration welled in my bloodshot eyes as I scanned the computers desktop for any clue as to why my efforts had been for naught. At one point, in a fly-by-night act of vexation I swept my arm across the desk knocking all of its contents (books, papers, pens, external hard drives, disks- yes I have a very messy work space) flew onto the floor and surrounding area. At that point I flopped to the floor and cried. I cried for my failure as a printer installer. I cried for the pages that seemed would never be. And I cried for my inability to learn anything new in this old ass and stubborn age of mine.

As I lay crumpled and dejected on blue carpet I pondered the meaning of existence. No, no I didn’t. It would have been sure fucking prophetic if I had though. No instead I glanced behind the desk to find a cord I hadn’t seen previously. It looked as though it was meant to be in the general area of computers and things. Then it struck me- I had a cord connecting from the back of the printer into the wall…But did I have one that connected from the printer to the computer?

Nope sure didn’t.

In my defense, in this age of Bluetooth and wireless fucking everything I honestly didn’t think there would be a need for such a cord. But low and behold as I plugged that baby in I was able to print thereafter until my heart was content.

Now as I head off to snuggle in my bed with a first draft manuscript and a very very very large glass of wine I have a newfound confidence that floats alongside of me. Maybe there was a few pit stops, and sure several manic meltdowns but it does go to show that you can most definitely teach an old dog new tricks.

That was until the next day when we managed to wipe the computer clean of all of its documents and programs…For the second time in a year.

Maybe it’s not an age thing after all, perhaps I’m just not cut out for this tech shit.


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