I Shaved My Legs For This?

Country Western singer Deanna Carter had a hit song in 1996 asking, “Did I Shave My Legs For This”?  She sings about getting all gussied up and then her man expects her to crack open a cold one for him and fry him some bacon in the skillet.

Girl, after the past couple of weeks, I feel ya…. Now, my man doesn’t ask me to do any of that – thank goodness.  And, in fact, he’s been cracking open quite a few Vanilla Cokes and making me stir fry.  No, my problems have included a crash of my work computer (that was one shy of being four years old), the crash of one of the three back-up external hard drives (and the one that had most of the files on it), my Dad’s iPhone going into automatic lockdown mode when I was replacing a required SIM card, and an oil leakage on one of our vehicles that had the engine replaced nine months previously.

I am not a calm person.  I have not dealt with any of this in a rational manner. I frantically tried for days and days to bring my computer back to life.  I called my brother-in-law for help. The fickle little piece of machinery would rise and work and kind of giggle like, “My bad!  I was just messing with you.”  I made sure that everything was backed up, because, you know…. And son-of-a-gun, the main back up drive also failed.

I had to make an emergency trip to a store over ninety miles away on July 2nd to purchase a new computer.  My brother-in-law and I then had to update all of my software and then I got hit with upgrade charges because the new computer required a newer version of some of the programs.  Can you say “Cha-ching?”  I’ve said “Cha-ching” quite frequently in the past two weeks. 

In the middle of all of this turmoil, our cellphones required new SIM cards because of Sprint being bought out by T-Mobile. My son transferred mine without issue, my husband transferred his without issue.  And then I met my Dad to do his card transfer and boom boom chakka chakka! We got the new SIM card loaded in the phone and it restarted.  Oh yeah…. And then oh nooooo….  the phone was asking for his Apple ID and log-in.  We didn’t think he had one.  We asked for a hint.  We tried everything we could think of for an email and a password.  Nada, zilch.  I tried putting the old SIM card back in the phone.  Nope, didn’t work.  I turned to my old buddy Google for assistance.  And then I got desperate and called Sprint/T-Mobile.  I was on hold for over an hour listening to some horrible music.  I finally talk to a human, and they tell me that I was contact Apple.  I spend another hour or more on hold.  A customer service rep eventually answers and tells me that the phone is on lockdown and will remain that way until we can prove that we own the phone and then they will permit us to change the Apple ID and password.  Did I mention that the phone was purchased in 2017?

I called Sprint/T-Mobile again and yes; I am on hold – for another hour.  By the time I am able to  talk to the customer service rep, I am cranky and hangry.  I explain that I need a copy of my receipt.  The rep wants to upgrade the $#^*(&@!   iPhone.  “We have some great deals going on right now,”  she cheerily chirps. 

“Are you %&#@*%$ serious?” I ask her.  “My 85-year-old Dad is without a phone RIGHT NOW.  Will an upgraded phone help this situation RIGHT NOW?” 

“Oh no,” she stammered.  “You have to go this phone unlocked first.”

“Then let’s get this done first,” I retort.

They are able to get me a receipt and email it to me.  I call back Apple.  They have me email it to them.  I’m like yeah – we are going to get this resolved here and now.  And life replies, “Not so fast there Sparky….”  Nope, the Apple CS Rep says that they are very busy and it’s going to take at least 1 week and up to 30 days for someone to review the info I just emailed.

I go ballistic after I hang up the phone.  And my mind just starts racing on other things that I don’t like.  Dumb things.  Things that shouldn’t matter to me – but they do…. Why are the pockets on women’s pants so tiny?  Men get these deep pockets and women?  Women get a pocket that is usually not even 2 inches deep.  We can’t even fit some currency bills and coins in these blasted pockets, let alone a phone or car keys. And why can’t we have shirts that actually go down to or cover our butts? And do away with the fugly old lady prints.  Yes, I am an old lady, but I don’t want no fugly print.

And then I irrationally ponder why obituaries always say, “He/She passed away.”  No, he/she died.  When my Mom died, that’s what I wrote in her obituary, she died.  And on this subject, for the love of all that is holy, people stop posting, “Rest in peace” or even worse, just typing, “RIP”.  What else are our loved ones going to do?  They are dead. It’s not like they are going to go out clubbing or climb a mountain.

And all those Facebook people who post “Thoughts and prayers” on the news stations and newspaper pages when a tragedy occurs – are ya really giving all of your thoughts and prayers to each and every situation that you type these words?  I think not.

And then I got angry because packages are being delivered to my neighbor’s house, instead of mine – or I receive an email saying the package has been delivered – and then it’s not, until the next day.  And the ice cream machine was down again at McDonald’s, and I couldn’t get my milkshake and the frozen drink machine was doing the spinning thing at Sheetz.

At this point in my life, it’s been almost 5 hours since my Dad’s phone locked down,  I had sent him home a couple of hours previously.  I had kept repeating throughout this day that I could have sworn that I had written down a copy of his Apple ID and password (that he’s never needed to use) somewhere on my phone and that the info had transferred over to my phone when I had upgraded two years ago.). I started going through all of the Notes I had made on my phone and Hallelujah, I found that sucker buried amongst reminders to buy chicken soup and directions to a bakery 2 hours away and a website with genealogical info about some of my ancestors.  I grabbed my Dad’s phone and imported that ID and password and boom boom chakka chakka!  Mama was back in business!  I called my Dad on his landline to report the wonderful news. 

My new work computer is much faster than the old one and the back-up drive roared back enough to give me some of my needed files – not all, but some.  I’ll take it.

Apple still hasn’t contacted me about info on changing the ID and password.  They must be really busy… but they can go pound some salt because my Dad’s phone is working just fine.  And I will get him that upgrade soon.

And my legs?  Haven’t shaved in days – may they rest in peace.