The unthinkable has happened. My almost six year-old MacBook Pro has died. Okay, maybe not died yet, but it appears to be in some kind of coma that isn't easily reversible.
Yes.
Now, some of you who must write to stay alive (like me) are having a panic attack on my behalf. And to that I say thank you for your empathy.
When, you ask? It was yesterday. Unexpectedly, too. Like some cruel lover who seems fine one day but wakes up the next and says, "It's, like, over." To which you say, "Excuse me? Did I hear you wrong?" (Which, in this instance, was several attempts to force a restart only to be teased with an apple and a swirling spinner then have my hopes dashed by a blink and then the scary gray nothingness you see above.)
So I well up with tears and plead with my lover-slash-MacBook Pro, "After all we've been through? I mean, didn't I, like, refurbish you after that red wine incident? I mean, it's not like that was even my fault, either!"
And the MacDaddy just stares back at me with a gray blank indifference that boils my blood. So then I lose my cool.
"You should have told me you would do this last summer when I was replacing your hard drive, you a--hole!"
Again, nothing.
So yes. My MacBook Pro has done what I thought was only relegated to crappy Dells. It did what would surely make Steve Jobs himself turn over in his grave. It. . . it. . . stopped working. Or at least it faded to black.. . .I mean gray.
Deep breath.
What does this mean to me as a blogger? It means I have spent the last 24 hours trembling in a corner rocking back and forth, that's what it means. It means that I have just tortured myself by blogging on a tablet touch keyboard because that fix. . . oh man. . . I had to have it. Man. It also means that unless I come up with a plan B, I will either be iPhone and iPadding it or not posting much.
Oh, what's that you said? Why not just go buy a new one? Uuuuhhh, because first of all, I am a mother of two small kids and it's almost Christmas and also Mac Books cannot be found in the Target dollar bin. AND. Clearly, (since obviously I can be a little. . . errr. . . thrifty) I fully intend to see if my almost six year-old MacDaddy can be resuscitated before I do anything drastic. Like get another one. Duh! (Unless, of course, my dad gets a new MacBook and let's me get his old one. . . .hint hint.)
Woe is me.
Hey. That reminds me. Are any of y'all old enough to remember when the early generation Mac notebooks would give you the "Sad Mac" face when it had bugs? That's when you knew it was a wrap for sure! At least I didn't get that. (I tried to put a picture of one in this post but couldn't figure out how to do it from this ultra-craptacular iPad Blogger app.)
Woe is me, again.
Okay. So here is the point where you shower me with all sorts of sympathetic commentary. That or a coupon for a new MacBook Pro. (Um, yeah. I'm thinking the comments will cost you less.)
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| The "Sad Mac" used to literally appear on your screen! |
Oh. Guess I did figure the "Sad Mac" picture out on the BlogPress app after all. (I'm still sad, though.)
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
