Frowning at Computer

I spent a good portion of the day frowning at my computer, shaking the mouse at the screen, and yelling at the confounded contraption designed to make any sane person crazy. My husband and the dog were napping peacefully in the other room so I tried to limit my tantrums to mostly small noises on the outside, but my internal dialog was stupendous.

Little by little I have climbed over hurdles, crawled through the mud pits of technology to find the magic button I needed. I fought with margins, gutters, and settings until my own heartbeat was pounding in my ears and metaphorical blood was spilled all over the floor.

I failed to notice the white blasts of light, the growling-booming sky, until my 65 pound older dog came sleep stumbling from the bedroom crying because he was sure the house was going to collapse and the monsters under the earth were going to rise up and devour us all.

His poor sleep fuddled puppy brain was overwhelmed with fear. His whole arthritic body shook and he climbed past my legs, under my desk and took shelter on top of my feet. As any dog will tell you, it is the safest place in the world, pinning your owner to a single spot on the floor.

That I noticed.

So I took a break and decided to write a post, but progress is definitely being made. I have yet to go looking for a hammer to use on the computer, although it was a close thing earlier.