I spent all yesterday morning on the phone with Apple trying to import my hundreds of emails. I haven’t the capacity to explain where we’re at now, but things are very messy on my new computer. My technophobic anxiety levels are through the roof.
While some of the technical processes ran, I went outside and raked up the forest detritus in the yard that fell during last Wednesday’s storm. It felt very good to be outside and working on the yard. I loved being away from the computer and not on the phone with Apple.
At 4:00, Shawn called be back from Texas, and we undertook another round of trying to import my music and archived emails. This session was 2 hours, making a total of 5 hours of being on the phone with Apple yesterday. At the end of our session, I had to run a program that needed 4 hours to execute. Finally, I was able to make some food and settle down to eat. I fell asleep in front of the TV quite early, so I went to bed.
At 7:30 this morning, Shawn called me back. It was time to check on the results of last evening’s work. It worked, but not very well. We spend 2.5 hours on the phone together and we quit when I was faced with a big decision: Do I want to keep this machine and go forward without most of my old emails, or do I want to erase everything on this machine, restore the operating system and start the importing all over again to see if it works better a second time? Or do I want to buy a bigger computer with much more memory?
I couldn’t handle making the decision, so I bid Shawn farewell. I decided to get back to my garden work and to think about what I’m going to do. I didn’t want to make my decision quickly.
I’ve found this switch to a new computer to be very, very trying. Sheba is ill with a rash all over her body, the yard is a wreck from the storm and all this, plus the computer problem, has me feeling overwhelmed. I’m besieged with seizures and speech is very, very difficult.
I want to take obliterating drugs. I want to escape this unsettled world of mine. But I can’t. I must carry on and try to get everything back to normal. I mixed some over-the-counter cortisone in water and washed Sheba’s body. The poor girl is constantly biting and scratching herself. I’ve been relieved already to see her calmly sleeping. The cortisone might have brought her some relief.
And I will make good progress on the yard today. It seems stupid to be upset at the chaos and mess, but that’s what living with anxiety is like. All I can do, is keep working to bring order back to the yard. Then I will feel better. And as I rake and sweep up all the crap and then tote it all to the area where I dump all my forest fall, I will think about what to do about my computer.
Tomorrow will be a better day.