Well, as is almost always the case, the computers start acting up right after Christmas. I’m trying to simply stare one down into working properly–it’s the main computer in the house, and the only one connected to the cable so far. From working totally fine to not booting up, all within the space of a few minutes. Was thoroughly disgusted because I don’t like using my husband’s computer because it’s uncomfortable, and this shop one doesn’t like working until it’s warm enough in here. So I flicked the heat on, went back into the house, decided to read, and fell asleep for three hours.
Now that I’ve bitched about it, I can get back to work. The holidays were great–it was terrific to see everyone and the meals were just awesome (my entire family is food-driven and food-dependent for happiness as well). Had socially stimulating conversation on current trends in education and in gender statistics both in the educational system and in the corporate world with my brother-in-law and my niece who’s going for her master’s in early education. Got caught up on the news and climates of Seattle, D.C., New Hampshire and Philadelphia, and watched an 18-month old and an 11-month old desperately avoid getting stepped on as they hid under piles of torn wrapping papers. It was fun.
While I’ve wished everyone a Merry Christmas, it of course occurred to me that some people do not celebrate Christmas as such, but follow their own traditional holiday beliefs and values. It’s certainly not my intention to impose or offend, and I would like to believe that my wishing someone a Merry Christmas only means that I wish them the meaning of what Christmas means to me. My dentist wished me a Happy Chanukah. I understood and appreciated what the sentiment meant to him, and what he was wishing for me. Neither one of us needs to be politically correct. We’re honest people.
Ended up working in the shop today to gain access to the computer, and because in my obsessive, compulsive self I knew I had left some things unfinished. It’s quiet in here. I can think. Later I’ll close the shop and go back inside to fix my main computer, the bratty child who is too much like me to get very upset with. Life is good.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology