Notice anything…unusual about my inbox? Now, I know everyone wants to feel popular…and interesting…and receiving scads of email tells you that you must have crossed over into some kind of uber-celebrity-dom…for the infinitely admired…right??
In this case, that would be oh so wrong.
I’d run to the post office and left laptop in charge of answering the phones, sterilizing our toothbrushes and walking the dog. That’s all I'd asked…but what did I get? Upon return, I found laptop rebooted…requesting the uber-secret password-code to return me to the place where my now un-saved documents, containing some of my
When I logged onto my desktop, I was informed that windows was kind enough to install some updates it thought I might like (read: not critical) and that after numerous attempts at garnering permission to do so, it took it upon itself to update, install and reboot. After I responded with, “That’s bullshit and you know it” and punched the “okay” box, I could swear I saw a half-second pop-up that said, “Bite me”. I may have imagined it, though.
Regardless. Bill, you’ll be getting my bill in the mail for pain and mental anguish…not to mention the obvious loss of data. Sure, sure…Microsoft Word auto-saves data for just such an occurrence…but that’s because you know it’s your company’s update that’s gonna lose it in the first place. Sneaky, Bill….oh. so. sneaky. Go stand by your mailbox…it’ll be there any minute.
(Bill’s attempting to deflect his responsibility for this debacle by mimicking his precious Windows Update…as it’s calling out to someone….anyone!...the dog, even!...to “Come….see what needs to be done?! Come and authorize this reboot! It’s the only freakin’ way!” You can tell though, that even he’s not really buying it.)
After popping my invoice to Bill in the mailbox, I then opened up my Windows Mail to see if I had any new email messages.
Kathryn: “Huh. It’s taking an awfully long time to authorize and receive these messages. WTF? Oh, there it goes. What?? Receiving one of 406?!? Whaaaat?? HEY!! I MUST’VE GONE VIRAL OR SOMETHING! AM I ON CNN? WILL THIS MEAN A BOOK DEAL? DOES THIS MEAN I CAN STOP COLORING MY OWN HAIR?? WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING???”
Then I notice that my Facebook and personal emails are way out of whack as well.
No viral…no book deal…no CNN. They’re dupes of emails already received. From God knows when. Oy.
I check my settings…nothing’s changed. I call Comcast. (I have the number committed to memory)
Comcast recording: “We’re happy you called! Now we need your phone number.”
I punch in my phone number. (Don’t they know my phone number? Don’t they have caller ID?)
Comcast recording: “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Please enter your phone number.” (They know my freakin’ number…they’re just doing this to piss me off)
I punch the numbers in again. I push down extra hard for emphasis, so the machine knows I’m MAD.
Comcast recording: “Is this number correct?” (Reads it back to me) “Press 1 if correct.”
I press 1….holding my finger down a little longer than necessary.
Comcast recording: “To verify your account, please enter the last 4-digits of your social security number.”
Comcast recording: “If trouble with your service, please press 1.”
Comcast recording: If trouble with your cable television, please press 1. Phone service: 2. High-speed internet: 3.”
I press 3.
Comcast recording: “If you’re interested in participating in a short survey at the end of this call, press 1…otherwise, press 2.”
Me (Muttering): “Oh, don’t tempt me, people. I will call you every single bad word I can think of. Hell, I may even make some up. There aren’t enough curse words in the freakin’ universe to convey my thoughts on your freakin' service…”
Comcast recording: “I’m sorry…I didn’t get that. I’m now transferring you to a customer service representative.”
This is followed by two EAR PIERCING TONES that summarily break my left eardrum. (Great…now I’ve got another invoice to fill out for medical expenses to resume the hearing in my left ear.)
Comcast recording: “We are experiencing unusually large call volume. You may call back at a later time, or hold for the next available representative. Your wait time is approximately...22 minutes.”
Me: “Bite me.”
(The dupes ceased on their own as of yesterday. Now, I just have to figure out what I’ve read and what I haven’t. I may have to invoice someone for my time to accomplish this. I do believe when all is said and done, I may be able to retire comfortably following this event.)
The lesson learned? Don’t go to the post office. No good can come from it.