Yesterday evening I was zipping along, messing around with some photos, figuring out a clever way to update a website I am webmaster for, and had about two zillion programs and windows open on my computer, and about the same amount of electrical appliances blazing in my apartment.
And there went the lights.
When I finally got the fusebox to cooperate again, my iMac ("lampfoot" type) faithfully started up - without the familiar Mac start-up chime, and without anything happening on the screen except for a very pretty light blue color.
Several attempts were made to get my iMac to start from its hard disk. Finally, I ran hardware diagnostics and it hiccupped at one of my RAM chips.
My baby is sick. Very, very sick. Not even a reinstall of the OS will fix it.
I am without my computer, without regular surfing, e-mailing, Usenetting, etc.
Oh. God. Abstinence.
Oh. God. Panic.
Luckily, there's a Mac repair shop right here in town. Goody. That takes care of the panic.
But Oh. God. The abstinence.
My life has become completely dependent upon a contraption with a motherboard as well as electricity. I get my daily newspaper delivered electronically. If I want to see what my digital camera did, I download it onto my computer. I check my TV-listings online. And I stay in touch with loved ones in other countries via e-mail.
Luckily, there's a web interface for my e-mail and the puter at work (also a Mac - yay!), and there's my old tangerine clamshell, too.
But I want my pretty lampfooted baby fixed!