|"A reenactment of the Blank Screen"|
Ah crap! as I mumble WTF in a Yosemite Sam grumble under my breath, I know not very parental of me, but just telling it like it is.
Alright, mom did the last two book reports, now it's my turn.
So I crack open the laptop, and start writing a mock letter to Steven Spielberg to pitch the book my daughter just read as his next potential blockbuster. It was part of the list of book report options. Sounded fun at the time.
My Daughter's job was to read the book, and take summary notes so when project time came we'd sit down and do it. Why don't things ever just pan out smoothly as I envision they should in my minds eye. Why, I ask, oh why?
So, we sit down together, and start the report. I start us off in the obvious way, Dear Mr Spielberg.......
My wife is rooting through drawers looking for scrapbooking pages, Nick knacks, and cool lettering for the presentation portion of the report.
Abby and I continue writing. We tell Mr Spielberg how great a book this is and how it would be a hit. We explain the main characters and who should play them. We finally after two hours finish the report. Went pretty smooth, right? Wrong.
Abby, jumps up and says let's see if we can print it. When she did this she unplugged our 6 year old Mac Book with no rechargeable battery and the screen went black. I immediately knew we were screwed. I said shit!(and maybe a few other choice words), rebooted the computer, waited, waited, and only the first paragraph appeared. I said; In a compressed, I'm going to explode tone of voice, Abby please leave. I felt bad after. But shit, I had to retype the whole damn thing. Argh, I was pissed at the machine more then Abby, accidents happen but why, oh why at midnight!!!
After another 60 minutes of intense memory recall, and close to 1 AM, I finished. My wife and I drank warm milk. The letter to Steven was complete. FINALLY, and saved, multiple times during the second composition.
|"My Brain on Homework"|