Tuesday, July 29, 2008

magic touch

My parents' porch, a few weeks ago.

I really was dreading going back to work today, worrying about my crutches, my foot swelling, pondering how I would carry things and buy lunch in the cafeteria, preparing myself to explain my surgery over and over to people who would exclaim "Oh! What happened?!"

My parents came down yesterday to help me get organized, so things were chaotic with five excited little dogs, my dentist appointment, food shopping, feeding everyone, and sleeping arrangements. I went to bed at 10:00 to read and calm down, but ended up not falling asleep until 1:45 a.m. Then I was awake at 4:00 a.m., looking at the clock, worrying that I'd miss the alarm. I swear, it felt like the first day of high school, worrying that I wouldn't be able to find my way to biology or get my locker open! It's just WORK, people; I've been there for eight years. What is the problem?

Finally, the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. and I hobbled to the bathroom to take my shower. I got all ready for work. Packed my backpack with my purse, coffee thermos, extra gauze, pain pills, extra socks, etc. Rechecked everything. Walked out to my car with my parents waving in the doorway, like I was six years old and riding the bus for the first time. I felt like I should be swinging my metal Mork & Mindy lunchbox and skipping.

I got to work, parked in a handicapped spot, and limped my way to my desk, crutches flailing, pausing to talk with well wishers who DID actually say "Oh! What happened?!" It took forever. Our building is a converted warehouse and the hallways go on for miles. MILES, I'm telling you. And my office is in the furthest corner. Tumbleweeds were blowing through the sandy hallways and I passed skeletons of people who never made it to their desks. I finally got to my office, panting, sweating, and cursing the size of the building. I chatted with my boss, drank some coffee, and opened some files on my computer.

Before I could do any work, I got this message across the screen of my Mac. In four languages, no less:

So I restarted. I got the same message, and then a gray screen with DOS-like words and codes across it, ending with the hopeless phrase: "panic: we are hanging here . . ."

I actually found a photo of it on someone else's screen here.

Panic? What?? Who is "we"? And where are you hanging and why? Could you, like, just maybe give me a little more information?

Turns out, as I was told by our IT people as they nodded sadly, this is called a "kernel panic", which to me sounds like something horrible that happens in a cornfield. To them, it was something more serious, so serious that they came with a dolly and carted my computer away, leaving me with an empty, dusty desk and nothing to do. My boss immediately ordered me a new Mac, which will be in tomorrow or Thursday, and that was that. I hung around to make sure the IT people can save the contents of my old hard drive (they can), and then I left around 10:30 a.m.

What a waste of a good outfit.

I came home, ate, and took a MONGO nap. When will I stop being so tired? I'm like one of those dolls whose eyes go shut when you lay them down. I have no power over myself anymore.

It's hot and humid here, but I'm going to saunter out to my usual spot on the patio and do some reading while the dogs frolick. And that wraps up my odd day.

1 comment:

d said...

no wonder you didn't answer any messages today. and what do you mean waste of a good outfit!? who else got to leave that early!? nobody! it was a great way to ease back into the work thing. and an extra afternoon to veg! i'm jealous.