The Apple Genius Bar should offer free therapy sessions. There was no hand holding, no "I think you should sit down for this one," no box of tissues at the ready. Where's the bedside manner, geniuses? Just because you're a level 70 elf paladin in World Of Warcraft does not mean that you get a free pass when it comes to showing empathy for real human beings. Elf paladins weep for their fallen brethren. Where were my tears, elfie? I could have used a cuddle. At the very least, you could have offered up a Howie Mandel knuckle punch.
On Monday evening, September 1, at approximately 7PM in the evening, my precious 4-year old Powerbook G4 laptop died. The signs were there for months, but I was in denial. The on again, off again emphysema wheeze-rattle of the fan. The freezing up, the curt booting me off-line and nagging inability to handle even the smallest of downloads without bitching and moaning and spinning. My computer was four years old. In technoweenie years, that's about 104. I should have replaced her long ago but was determined to get my money's worth. All $3800 of it. It was a slow death and a painful one at that. Data recovery specialists charge anywhere from $500 to $2500 to return all of your precious files unscathed, depending on the severity of the issue. My lovely had a hard drive mechanical failure paired with broken fan disease. They will have to rebuild it in order to deliver my goodies in one piece. If you build it, they will pay.
When I'm not writing about looking like Encino Man in a Michael Kors mule, I work as a sales & marketing strategist. For some of my clients, I'm also engaged in new business development. My network is my livelihood, you see - my lists of prospects worth its weight in gold. Which is exactly how much it will cost you if you do not back up your damn computer. STAT. You've been warned! Learn from my pain, people.
Stop reading this right now and go backup your computer. You'll be grateful that you did. My last backup was six months ago. Within a 24 hour period I've recovered almost all of what I've lost and now have a brand new shiny toy to play with that makes my former computer look like a geriatric mess. I love my new MacBook. In fact, I'm feeling quite attached already. She's a good egg.
Dear MacBook,
Although you're not as big as my last computer, you're feisty. I'll give you that. You have a built in camera, which means that friends and family and (ack!) clients can check in on me at any time to find that I'm working from the comfort of my couch in the shirt that I slept in, braless, sporting bed head that makes me look like some yet to be discovered arctic, baby bird.
I promise to treat you like a princess. I will always put you in your sleeve and will never, ever, drink Earl Gray tea in your presence, or carelessly drop toast crumbs on your touch pad. You will remain smudge free for as long as I can manage not to lose the nice cloth the apple folks gave me. I will not drop you, shake you or secretly pine for a MacBook Air. While watching porn, I will not curse your short battery life. (just checking to see if you were still with me here.) what? porn? me? who? nahhhhh.....
Signing off from an over-sized King at the Palomar Hotel in SF. I highly recommend this place. You can request a goldfish for the duration of your stay. So I did. Hoping he has a long, wheeze free life inside the bowl.
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