Today, someone very kindly came to the office to install a software upgrade for me that I really, really need.
And then they left, assuming that I am at least as smart as, if not smarter than, the average bear. Probably a poor assumption on their part.
I started watching the tutorial. Halfway through the tutorial, I got tired of the over-enthusiastic voice pointing out obvious things to me.
It's like listening to the cheerful instructor, clad in spandex, on the Pilates DVD I bought in a moment of insanity. "Just balance on your tushee while you draw your knees up to your chest, and wrap your arms around your ankles ... now gently ... roll backwards ... hold it ... hold it ... and roll back up. Wonderful! Just 572 more times now...." Meanwhile my arms and legs have exploded in all directions, and my tushee took out the DVD player altogether.
Where was I? Oh yes. Over-enthusiastic tutorial voice. I decided, rather than finish the tutorial, to implement what I thought I knew.
So I did.
After all, what could possibly go wrong?
The whole thing crashed.
And now the program won't even boot up.
Which means I'm on my knees, figuratively speaking, begging the person who installed it as a favour in the first place, to please come do it again. Right now. Please.
Later this afternoon, a friend on Facebook invited me to take a quiz to discover if I have a psychological disorder.
I'm inventing a few right now, and trying them out ... does that count?