Betrayed

© shoutingforha

Once again, I have been MIA. Believe me, dear readers, the scarcity of posting is not due to a lack of effort.

I have been the victim of some technical difficulties with my internet service provider... A large company whose name starts with "C" and rhymes with "bomb blast."

For the past week, the seemingly simple act of using the internet has become almost impossible. A click on any button or link merely causes the virtual wheels to begin spinning, but nothing ever materializes. The hardware has been checked and the company has been called, repeatedly. All to no avail.

As a result, I am left with the nearly uncontrollable urge to smash my MacBook into a million pieces and scream my head off. Since I happen to love my computer and the contents of it's hard drive, I have opted to spend an undo amount of time yelling.

My throat is beginning to hurt.

You may be wondering why I am having such a strong reaction to what seems like a minor inconvenience. I assure you that I would be much more rational if not for the two other mechanical failures that we have suffered this week here at the Ha house.

First, the fan motor on our two-year-old heat pump decided to quit. Thankfully, the part was still under warranty, leaving me to pay for the service call and thirty minutes of labor. Then, the Service Engine light on the on the white whale came on. Apparently the intake gasket developed a small leak, resulting in a whopping $856 bill.

All of these frustrations have made me realize that I am genuinely offended and feel an extreme sense of betrayal when inanimate objects fail to work properly. I have the unspoken belief that any car, appliance or device in my possession should remain in proper working order until I determine that the object has served it's purpose.

In my perfect little world, my refrigerator, washing machine and hairdryer should outlive me. Is that irrational? Of course it is, but that doesn't stop me from maintaining my illogical expectations.

I am now going to lock myself in a padded room.

If anyone out there in internet land finds that compulsive web surfing is gobbling up too much of your precious time, feel free to stop by. I guarantee that your desire to surf the web will be obliterated in five frustrating minutes. Just try to ignore all the screaming.