For Your Amusement…

I got a new hard drive at my office last week, and it apparently hates me. I know this because my entire desktop is weirdly formatted and I can’t fix it. I’ll request that a file be saved in a certain location and my hard drive gleefully sticks it in virtual Timbuktu. And, unbeknownst to me until this morning, it has been choosing email addresses at random and deleting all messages from those addresses. At RANDOM. Plus, it’s been emptying the Recycling Bin every morning at 2am, so these deleted messages are lost forever. So, if you sent me something this week and I did not respond, please don’t take it personally. It’s not me– it’s my new hard drive.

And here’s how much it hates me: Dave was sitting at my desk, trying to sort out the problem. Since I had nothing to do but stand around and watch him (which he really can’t stand), I thought I’d empty the trash can that lives under the desk. Dave was on the phone, so I whispered, “Excuse me,” and reached just past him. My desk is pretty deep, so I was kneeling down, reaching waaaaay back, with my head in the little space between the side of the desk and the chair that Dave sat in.

Well, like a squirrel who gets stuck in a discarded Yoplait container, I discovered that I could fit my face into that tiny gap, but not out. When I reached the can and tried to back out, I wedged my face tight between the desk and Dave’s chair. My cheeks bulged forward and I bit both sides of my tongue. It was like being a ship stuck in a bottle. “I need more room…” I muttered, stuck in lockjaw position. Dave shifted further away and I pulled out my poor head, ears ringing, tongue bleeding. Still on the phone, Dave gave me the, “How-did-you-get-your-HEAD-stuck-aren’t-you-an-adult?” look as I staggered out of the room, trash can in hand. And it hit me: it’s that freaking new hard drive. It’s definitely out to get me: if I call in the cavalry to fix the software-based shenanigans it’s been getting up to, it’s going to go straight for my hardware. And if that’s the case, then game ON, my friend. You have no idea how many different substances I have spilled onto hard drives in the past, how many DVD’s have been jammed haphazardly (and simultaneously) into their drives by curious children, how many times I’ve kicked your predecessors while swiveling around in my chair. So if you really think you want to put up your dukes, just let me know. Once my ears stop ringing, I’m up for it.


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