Today we had computer problems at work. Saying it like that makes it seem less annoying than it was. It makes it seem inconsequential, when instead it was so irritating that it felt at times as though my eyes were about to pop out of my head with the suppressed rage and frustration.
I spent most of the day writing an accounts manual. About an hour of work done altogther (which means I'll have the joy of its company again on Monday) with the rest of the time spent attempting to get screenshots from a system that would crash, start-up, crash, start-up, crash, start-up and then grudgingly allow me to take a snip of the screen, and referring to documents that were hosted on drives that no longer existed, existed, no longer existed, opened, disappeared, opened but greyed out with the whirly circle of never-ending doom and a helpful message saying 'Not responding' - no kidding, really? - and then would allow me to search through the document for the paragraph I needed only to realise that I'd opened the wrong one and had to start again.
A few years ago I was having trouble with Excel - in a similar vein to today's constant aggravation - and joked to a colleague that this was the start of Terminator: rise of the machines.
Doesn't seem like a laughing matter anymore, does it?
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