Technology stresses me out. Let’s just establish this straight off the bat. I do not like it. Or rather, I like it very much but my expectation is that when I push the appropriate buttons, blinky lights will appear and said technology will shut the fuck up and make me a sandwich.
When this doesn’t happen, I get a little bit buggy.
After 10 years of marriage, my ex husband still has not managed to convince me that kicking, whacking, dropping on the floor a few times to put the fear of God into it, throwing and smashing with a hammer are not, actually, superior methods of appliance repair.
Throwing and smashing with hammers is, by the way, why I occasionally need to go out and replace my cell phone or iPod or the vacuum cleaner. Or the toaster oven. Once, a VCR.
Possibly a laptop. But we won’t speak of that.
My point is, I don’t understand why things sometimes won’t work when I push the button. I just want things to work. Is that too much to ask? When the blinky lights don’t come on, and the tears have started and I’ve been forcibly restrained from turning the tech in question into so many pieces on the floor… well then it starts to get fun. Then? We have to fix the tech.
Ask my ex husband about the time he had to re-install the OS on my laptop. Which, btw, I TOTALLY DID NOT THROW OR WHACK.
Fixing invariably involves whining, and nail biting, and then usually at some point in the proceedings I have to go alphabetize the soup, and reorganize the pantry by color and if things still aren’t fixed by then usually I start in on the bookshelves. Fixing things is a fantastic way to insure that the house gets really clean and really OCD, really, really fast.
I don’t know why this is. I think it is because I rely on these things and when they fail me, I feel sad. I rely on my DVR to bring Billy the Exterminator and Caprica into my living room on a fairly regular basis. If it fails me, how will I watch Dr. Who? If the toaster stops working, how will I survive? My washing machine is an integral part of the smooth operation of my household and if it lets me down by slacking, then the whole team loses.
There is no I in Team, Mister Washing Machine. Suck it up and do your job.
That’s what I want the technology to understand. We all have to live together. We all have to WORK together. We are a community. And if the technology fails? Well, then, they get to meet Mr. Hammer.
Today I brought in Oscar and his Magic Penis first, as a last ditch negotiation tool. Mr. Washing Machine got some new innards, and Mr. Hammer stayed in the tool box. Everyone was happy.
I can totally compromise. I am a reasonable woman. But Mr. Washing Machine is on notice…