My computer betrayed me. I installed updates just like I am supposed to and it decided to freak out and not restart. My boyfriend was called in. He tried set it to a previous setting or reverted it in some way to something and it worked again. It just lost many of my programs and all of my files. This leads to...
An ode to my hp
Seriously, I don't want to reinstall Word or dig up proof that I just bought Norton.
That is so boring.
I just want to email my girlfriends, find out who got ugly a la facebook and laugh at the trashy choices made on the babycenter name boards.
Is that not my right?
Oh, I also need to read a couple blogs of stangers I have followed for a few years, look up vegetarian recipes, fantasy job search and sometimes compose the perfect cover letter (my version of the perfect cheer).
I have to keep an eye on my hometown newspaper (recent story: Boy and Aunt Lost in Corn Field Found after Hour Long Search).
I also want to watch videos about animals when I am hormonal.
I want to play a Yahoo game that involves stacking every now and again.
I must have access to Google and IMBD, just so I can settle arguments with my boyfriend.
I need to read about our vice presidential nominees, lest I be tricked into assuming a person who also has a vagina might care about the rights I care about.
In short, computer, I need you to work so I am not forced to watch the college football that my loving boyfriend has claimed as his right.
Every cover letter I have sent in the last two years and every version of my resume is gone gone gone. I had: resume_communications, resume_creative, resume_lies, coverletter_ballsy, coverletter_namedrop and coverletter_desperate all lined up for cutting and pasteing. They are all gone. This absence feels like a relief. I always liked the idea of certain professions. I always thought I'd enjoy having clients, selling things and planning events, but I never enjoyed any of the components. I don't like long hours or networking. I don't know whose career I was inventing in my head as I kept pushing and pushing for these dumb jobs that go to rich guys' daughters every time. Then I got one and I quit. I quit quickly and decisively. My body practically created psychosomatic symptoms to keep me from going to the job.
That part of my computer held the baggage. It was shameful to see the reminder of all the effort I put in just to fail at a career I secretly regard as not good enough for me anyway. How twisted and adolescent of me to both long for a job and resent it at once. It is actually no surprise that all that stuff is gone. Chapters, doors, books, gates and metaphors have all been closing for me lately. As frightening as the possibility of losing something important is, the empty space is chance for a do over. So I say, hello blank page.
