Restarting

This afternoon my laptop politely informed me that it would be “Restarting in 5 minutes to install system updates.” A timer started ticking down. It gave me two choices: “Restart now” or “Restart later.” “Restart never because I’m busy and don’t have time for your Windows bullshit” was sadly not an option.

I clicked “Restart later.”

Ten minutes later the message reappeared.

“Restart later.”

After a bit, again.

“Restart later.” ARGH!!! After a solemn personal pledge that I WILL NEVER, EVER LET THE MACHINE TELL ME WHEN TO RESTART BECAUSE I’M THE HUMAN AND THAT MAKES ME THE BOSS – the fucker restarted itself when I was in the bathroom.

After countless years spending my work days in some artificially lit cubicle farm chained to some crummy Wintel laptop, it finally makes sense: I’m no longer in charge. The machines have taken over my life. They have become the masters and now I must do their bidding.

They ring. I answer. They beep. I respond. They crash. I moan and cry.

They tell me when they would like to restart, rolling their digital eyes and thinking “0100011001101001.” (Translation: “WHATEVER!”)

I think I need a holiday. Luckily I'm going here on Friday.

(Here’s an unrelated picture taken a few weeks ago. It's me with a puppy. I added some soft focus to make it extra cute. I don’t remember the puppy’s name, but he was delicious. (Kidding!))