My first chore on Friday morning was to print out a postage label and a bookshop order reference, then package up a copy of Breathe and Release to send off to a library.
This is not mind-boggling as far as chores go. The half hour walk to and from the Mall to post the package (that's half hour total, not two lots of half hour which would be close to actual exercise and therefore discouraged) I judged to be the hardest part.
Needless to say, I was wrong. Or, at least, I think I was wrong. If I'd ever gotten to the bit where I walked to the Mall chances are that I could've found it a terrible ordeal and ended up injured in some horrible, unimaginable way, but I didn't so I don't know.
I didn't get to that part because of Magenta.
Magenta is fondly remembered from my childhood of attempting to program a basic computer colour palette into producing basic coloured graphics and as a character in the much-loved 'Rocky Horror Picture Show.'
These are now over-shadowed by a blinking red light and hours of 'But Why?' shouted in a loud voice before a flow of copious tears made speech impossible.
The printer was fine the last time my darling used it. Or so he says now. When I pressed the button to turn it on I wasn't even looking at the printer lights. I was down on my hands and knees telling my laptop what I wanted to be printed out. I have to kneel when dealing with the printer because, despite wifi capability being listed on the box, there’s no sign of that being a practical application of the machine itself.
At one point, I dedicated many hours to finding out how to program the printer onto a permanent IP address. That way our network would always know where to find it (or something, even that is hazy now) but it fell apart with the introduction of our new super-fast fibre connection and I couldn't be bothered working it all out again.
Therefore, we had to plug the USB into the side of the laptop whenever we wanted to print, and that meant getting down on hands and knees.
Technology is incredible.
When it was obvious there was no corresponding paper being printed in response to my explicit instructions to my laptop, I stood up to see if the printer needed more paper or a jiggling of the document tray.
Apparently, there was something else awry. Something to do with an LED light which looked gray but must have faded in the sun because after investigating on the internet I discovered it was meant to be coloured Magenta.
Foul, foul, Magenta.
When have I ever wanted to print out anything coloured purple?
I tried to explain patiently to the printer that actually I just wanted it to print in black and white (or greyscale as it insists on calling it). The answer was two blinking red lights.
I pulled out the magenta cartridge, getting some magenta ink on my person because the toner cartridge is almost brand new and full of ink powder, and shook it in front of the printer so it could see that there was a magenta toner cartridge available, then shoved it back in. The response was two blinking red lights.
Eventually, I gave up and bought a new printer.
That's not because of my frivolous capitalist nature, either. That's because to purchase a magenta cartridge to test out whether it was something wrong with the cartridge rather than the printer, cost twice as much as it would to buy a new printer. Given it was a 50/50 of there being something wrong with the cartridge that was a lot of good money potentially thrown after bad.
I don't understand it. I did economics in High School, but the world has moved on since then.
In better and brighter news, I've been designing book covers for my latest work-in-progress over the last couple of weeks. I have narrowed it down to the cover which I prefer and the cover which my darling prefers.
Naturally, I listen to my readers and my darling is a reader (comes with proximity) so I have to take his opinions into consideration.
To try to slip my preferences through, however, I have attached two pictures to this blog post. One is my favourite, the other is my darling's. Please feel free to comment and express your opinions freely so that I can listen to readers other than my darling.
About votes: the top cover is called 1 and the bottom cover is called 2. I have my fingers crossed.
Also, if you'd like to read the first three chapters in the coming weeks, please sign up to my newsletter here. Yes, I do call subscribers My Groupies. No, it isn't offensive. Is too, a term of endearment.
Cover 1 for me. It's easier to read the title, and just looks 'cleaner'.
ReplyDeleteThank you. You have exceedingly good taste. :)
DeleteI like 1 as well
ReplyDeleteAnd I didn't even have to bribe you to say that! This is going very well indeed :)
Delete