Kicking and Screaming

If you want to see the effects of having two computer hard drives fail (one BRAND new) within six months let me know and I will try to shoot you a photo. Imagine a mangy dog with bald spots. I have several from tearing my hair out. I also have a few bruises from banging my head on the desk, wall and any other available hard surface. I think that the twitch in my right eye has become permanent. I didn’t have any patience to speak of before all of this happened. It is now nonexistent. Luckily my husband does have a laptop (hence this entry) but I hate it. I want MY computer back. 
When our previous hard drive kicked the bucket (very rudely and with no warning I might add) I had a major melt down. Ricky took pity on me and paid to have the data recovered. There were photos and other files that could never be replaced otherwise. I had pictures of daddy that mean more than words can begin to express. We now have all of them on a separate hard drive in addition to a file back-up thingy. If that was not a word, it is now. He also purchased a brand new computer for me. For a whole FIVE MONTHS I was a happy camper.
Then it happened again. My husband spent several hours with tech support only to learn that the processor had to be shipped for repair/replacement. I know for a fact that I invented new words. It got to the point that the kids told me to substitute candy names for the ones that I was using so often. (I.E. that HERSHEY coated SKITTLE is a piece of a CHUNKY piece of GUMMY BEARS…or something along that line. Anyway you get the idea.)
This whole experience also has me wondering why when you phone customer service, you inevitably end up speaking to someone that is only vaguely acquainted with the English language. I do realize that we live in a much smaller world thanks to my beloved internet. That being said wouldn’t it behoove companies to give their customers the option of speaking to someone they can actually understand? I have friends from all over the world. Accents are like exotic spices that add unique textures and flavors to otherwise familiar dishes. I have major issues when I am not given a language choice option and am forced to deal with a customer service/tech support representative that might as well be speaking Klingon. The only words that I actually understood were, “Is there anything else we can assist you with today?” I found that amusing considering they hadn’t “helped” me in the first place. I am going to refrain from climbing up on my soap box about American companies outsourcing jobs (especially those dealing directly with customers) to foreign countries. I do realize that they save money due to the fact that they don’t have to pay these employees an actual living wage, deal with labor unions, environmental laws, employee benefits, taxes etc. It does make me wonder why people are so confused about the state of our economy. If you have a jar of pebbles and continue taking them out, tossing them into a pond without picking up new pebbles it won’t be long before your jar is EMPTY.  Is it too much to ask that when I phone a company’s tech support line that I am given the option of pressing 1 for an English speaking representative? I already have to wade through the choices of other languages for my local pharmacy! I would also ask that English NOT be a third or even fourth language for said representative. I may be so far off base that I am no longer in the ballpark, but isn’t the whole point of the job COMMUNICATING?
You would think all of that venting would make me feel just a little bit better. Nope. I still want to kick something.
My oldest son had his surgery and is recuperating nicely. The divorce is definite. That makes me want to spit. I have started riding a stationary bike to deal with the stress. At present I am riding for at least an hour a day, sometimes two. You would think that at the end of the ride I would be in a calmer more serene state of mind. You would be wrong. I am dripping with sweat but sadly all of the causes of said stress are still here. If I wasn’t so exhausted I would kick them out of my way as I stagger to the shower. It is probably a good thing I can’t. It would just leave me with a huge hole in the wall and then I would have to deal with drywall dust again. It’s been lovely, but I have to scream now.