Mrs.Tech Support (not exactly)

It's 2am.  I'm supposed to show up to teach something from the book of Genesis to a class of three year olds in about 6 and a half hours, and I will, but for now I have a (hopefully very quick) something to say.

When Hannah was but eleven days old, I sat my computer on the half wall in our living room to keep it safe (or so I thought) from my children.  This computer has twice been repaired by Asus, once under warranty and once out of pocket (cha-ching!), because it has a very fragile touchscreen that shatters if you so much as sneeze by it.  (Or step on it or drop it off a bed, but who's keeping track?)  As my very-responsible Ben walked through the living room, he noticed that three-year-old Leah had grabbed my laptop off it's apparently-not-so-safe perch in an effort to watch Netflix on it.  He dutifully confiscated the computer and put it the safest place he could think of - on top of the refrigerator.


Instead of putting it safely on top of the fridge, he rested it primarily on the door so that when Sarah opened the fridge to pour herself a cup of juice, the whole thing came crashing to the floor.

You can guess what the screen looked like after falling six feet onto a tile floor.  (No, I didn't take a picture. It was too painful to bear.)

I, of course, immediately cried, a reaction that probably would have occurred on one of my best days, but at least I had the excuse of blaming it on my postpartum haze  Having just gotten the computer repaired to the tune of $150+ a couple of months ago, all I could think was how that money was just flushed down the toilet.  I was never going to have a computer again.  I can never have nice things.  My life is over.  (Or something to that dramatic effect.)

In our home, Sam is Tech Support.  (No, really.  He literally worked for Tech Support in college.  He has the t-shirt and everything.)  I defer all computer related inquiries, repairs, decisions to him.  It's his "thing" and he's good at it.  After handling the warranty repair phone calls, and coughing up the cash to have it repaired the second time, I just couldn't stomach asking him to deal with this a third time.  Somehow, the "guts" of the computer were still perfectly functional, so Sam began contemplating ways to convert it into a desktop computer.  It would have worked, but I was dissatisfied with that option.  I decided to pull a Scartlett O'Hara and think about it the next day.  That doesn't usually work for me, and instead I obsessed over it for about three weeks.  Finally, I decided to order a replacement part and take my chances at repairing it myself.  Worst case scenario - I'd finish off the computer for good and be out $22.50.  Best case scenario - I'd have a functional computer.

You see, years ago, I was kind of smart.  Somehow, I successfully completed engineering school, secured a job in my field, and actually did kind of okay in the real world.

Now days, it's hard to remember that.  My days are spent covered in stickiness, wandering around trying to remember what it is that I was doing in this room at all, repeating instructions over and over again, making overzealous to-do lists that never get completed, and trying oh so hard to feed, clothe, and educate six little people all the while doing my best not to completely fail at being a wife.

Don't get me wrong.  My current job rocks.  Wouldn't trade it for anything, and I never imagined I'd say that, but it's definitely less...validating.  There's no paycheck.  No one to tell you "Well done!"  Honestly, most of what I do goes unnoticed.  And, most of the time, that's totally cool with me.  I don't need praise or admiration.  But I do like to, every once in a while, see a job to completion and know that I did it well.

Maybe that's why it was so daggone important for me to attempt the repair.

I just needed to know that I could.

Long story short - I did.

Phew.  Still got it.  (Sort of.)

There are so many blog posts I want to get out of my head and into cyberspace.  Now, I have a means to do it.  Until my next late night...

Sweet dreams!

(PS- I would like to thank Sam for unknowingly giving me to the confidence to even attempt this.  I have watched that man successfully tackle so very many major projects and repairs with nothing but a willingness to try and youtube.  Thanks, man.  You're my inspiration.)


Sharon said...

Hurray for you, Jennie! I can remember a Christmas long ago. We had bought the boys a Ghostbusters convertible VW Bug. Somehow it was supposed to flip open into a scary monster! Well, yes, you guessed it. It did NOT work. The boys were so disappointed. I couldn't take it back to the store because I ordered it through the Sear's catalog (yes, I'm that old...). Well, I spent the entire day working on it, opening it up, manipulating parts, and finally...YES! I got it to work. I'll never forget the sense of pride I had in my accomplishment, nor the look of awe on the face of my sons!

I'm rather adept at LEGO-assembling and decal-placement, too!


Post a Comment

Before you go, I'd love to hear from you! Let me know what's on your mind! (Please and thank you.)

Back to Top