The Blue Screen of Death!
To Chris’ surprise and disgust, I have just witnessed the infamous (“more than famous”) blue screen of death. After a long afternoon of rebuilding the desktop computer he finally let me take a seat and push a button or two to make sure it was Becky proof. Then it happened, that blue screen with its ugly white script appeared spouting Windows naughty words, or at least that’s what it seemed to be doing judging from Chris’ reaction. For that moment it seemed to be comparable to flat lining in the world of Computer Geekland. I suppose this has to be done once in a while for reasons I don’t want to bring up in conversation with Chris unless I’ve been having a hard time sleeping. This whole process of rebuilding to me can only be comparable to taking all of my cloths out of my dresser, washing them, folding them like they do at the department stores, nestling a little gossamer pouch filled with dried scented rose petals into the corner of each drawer and then gently nudging each drawer, while singing a cedar tree inspired lullaby, into their rightful homes.
Maybe some scented blue cornflowers to heighten the renewed drawer effect?
I have to say that this techno blue screen was a first for me and when I told Chris about this momentous event the only comfort he received was that he had managed to keep our computer pumping well all these years of marriage. Getting over this obstacle will most definitely fit into the category of one of those milestones every couple has to face in the eternal journey of “bearing one another’s burdens”. Up there with sharing the remote control, biting your tongue while in the passenger seat, or not saying anything when someone puts a milk jug with ½ a teaspoon of milk back in the fridge (my old roommate from Dixie College, Tawna, used to call this “cooling the pitcher”). We shall persevere! But I can tell you, Chris will probably not be wearing blue for a couple of days now.
I guess it's such a dreaded thing that the words are worthy of tattoo script on the most reckless of computer obsessed, Steve Jobs-loving, Bill Gates-hating techno-philes. What ever happened to a skull with crossbones?