Sorry, I Don't Do Windows
I finally did it. I went out and bought a home computer. It's absolutely fabulous. You won't believe all the things it can do. It can do budgets and banking. It can make maps. It can do my taxes. It can play CDs. It can speak Creole. It can make malteds.</br></br>I've had it for a month. I can plug it in. I can turn it on. After that I'm lost. I sit there staring at a blank screen, waiting for it to do something magical on its own, like it's the Oracle at Delphi. The only thing I can do on that screen is Windex it.</br></br>That's it. That's as far as I've gotten. The colon, I sense, is telling me I am expected to do something.</br></br>Oop. I am not good at this. I get nervous and make mistakes. So I correct my spelling, and hit Enter.</br></br>I want to abort. God, I want to abort. I want to abort this whole mission. I am unworthy. I am a squashed skunk on the information superhighway.