apple1Sorry it’s been awhile since my last post, but I have a really good excuse. My computer died. Well, it didn’t so much die as it was murdered. In cold blood. By a vengeful Mac-hating PC guy posing as a computer technician.

Perhaps I should explain. My mom and I began having problems with both our Macs immediately after a U-verse rep came out to install a new modem. (That should’ve been my first clue right there.) After exhausting all the brilliant minds at the cable company and desperate to get to the bottom of the problem, I called in outside help from an “expert.”

The assassin from Devine Technology Solutions seemed innocent and knowledgeable enough. (Killers usually are charming.) I don’t hesitate to use the actual name of the company here because my letter expressing my dissatisfaction has gone unanswered. (Beware the power of the pen, people!) It was the tech’s, I dare say somewhat biased opinion that both Macintosh computers, being over five years old, had died simultaneously (second clue). They did appear dead. After a few hours of the rainbow wheel, they wouldn’t even load. Still, that’s a huge coincidence, is it not?

To make a very long story somewhat shorter, I made the rather rash decision to let him rip out the harddrive of my “dead” Mac and load it onto my Windows laptop all while he extolled on the dangers of owning a Macintosh. (PC propaganda no doubt.). Meanwhile my mom, being in less of a hurry, got a second opinion from a fellow Mac owner who said the whole thing sounded fishy and that she should take it to the Genius Bar at the mall. And guess what? Her computer is fine. U-verse sent out a new modem to replace the faulty one causing all the problems to begin with and everything’s working great. The second U-verse rep instilled more confidence too, despite our initial conversation. Me: I hope you know Macs. Him: I’m sorry, I don’t think I know him.

I feel bad. My computer suffered a death that’s the stuff of my worst nightmares. It was buried alive. Or more like, it had open heart surgery without anesthetic. Sent six feet under while it was merely unconscious. But how was I to know? I trusted the doctors! Computers are not my expertise.

My guilt is doubled when I look at the shiny new (refurbished) Mac on which I write this. Tripled, when I joyfully think of the hordes of to-do lists I lost in the shuffle. It was liberating actually, to be unshackled from the weight of all those things left undone. During my computer-less time (well, I always had the Windows laptop but can I declare myself to be a Mac girl without sparking too much debate?) if I couldn’t remember something it was just … well … gone! It ceased to exist. I didn’t stress about all the things I had to do because I didn’t know I had to do them! It must be how more normal, less organized people feel all the time. It’s very freeing.

But the reality of living in the age of technology came calling when I turned on my new Apple and began exploring. There, sitting in Apple Mail was every to-do list I thought was gone, along with every email message I ever sent since 2011.

I’ve learned several important lessons in all this, not the least of which is this: you can always make life easier. Just hit delete.