Am I really being transposed to an Indian font? My computer is broken. It's been shutting itself off in ways that test my calm (and I'm usually calm, although I've lost thousands of words of good writing in the past few days). I already had an appointment for this morning at the Genius Bar, so I'll take it and say "It used to turn itself off and now it doesn't turn itself on."
Meanwhile, I thought I'll just use Marty's laptop; no problem. Well... I can't figure out how to get into my photobucket. My saved passwords aren't all memorized, and the files where the e-mails telling what my passwords are are on the other computer? Will I learn from this? Probably not. Maybe.
So I wanted to bring a cartoon here, but my hands know Mac and not PC hand movements. Seriously, I kinda wish at the moment I were a hunt-and-peck typist. People who can help me are sleeping.
Is it addiction or duty that makes me think if my computer can't be fixed I'm coming home with a new one? Obsession? Habit? Fear that I'll hurt the feelings of someone who has e-mailed me for something I can't provide (if I can even find the e-mail)?
Well... to any who read this, if anyone asks where I am, I might be working in my yard, trying not to cry. Or I might be at the Apple store, or watching a movie and eating popcorn. Things could be worse. My phone still works and my kids are all safe and well.
AH. Good. I wanted to comment on this, and the clue it might provide to why some people who come to unschooling discussions are infuriated by actual attempts to help them. Where does the urge to resist something on principle come from?
And should I stop using Macintosh computers after 20 years and break down and learn to cut and paste on a PC? But my Word files... my sense of superiority for being a Mac user... What would become of those? And how can I change the font on my title?