To you who know me, and to date, that is all four of you who follow this blog, I am far from a linear thinker. I am more serendipitous, which bleeds copiously into my lifestyle.
My office is certainly a reflection of wow, a cluttered mind? Perish the thought! My calendar is buried beneath trinkets, journals, old cards (uh oh, new cards!), library books, and reminders to book appointments, one for a colonoscopy and another for cleaning my teeth. Care to guess which one I will book first?
My husband Brian, who is a very linear thinker, has built up the structure of my office -- shelves, two solid tables aligning the main desk, and a cabinet on the wall. Stellar work!
But he will receive many crowns in heaven for being --
My computer guy.
Bearing the burden for many years, he set me up recently with a new laptop, believing his technical assistance calls may well be over, (at least for a while).
I, who began my writing career in college with a Royal typewriter, never grasped the confidence that I could make a go of it on the computer. But I stumbled along, singing a song, as Brian, with the patience of a saint, assisted me through various calamities.
I am absolutely certain, from the way he literally skipped out of my office after setting me up with this laptop, that he thought --
Well, that his work was done!
I felt hopeful too. Up until,
I pushed another button telling Microsoft to Yes! Go Ahead! Advance me to Windows 10. As I was to discover, it was an "uh oh" moment."
"You did WHAT?!" His voice rose a few decibels. Quickly I discerned that this option was NOT a good thing.
We have been married for 35 years. In this time, I have learned that at these critical junctures, I must come up with a LINEAR answer.
Truth is, the linear answer would have been that the cat strode over the keys of the computer to peer out the front window, and in my distraction, I did push the button. Doesn't Microsoft know what they are doing after all?
Linear or not, this did not appear at this critical juncture, to be the right thing to say.
Instead, I chose,
"I don't know."
His brow furrowed, he challenged, "Katy, I wish you would call me before you do these things."
(I am thinking, gosh, what things?)
Gratefully, I saw an out. "I did try to call you, but your phone was off." (I did try to call him to pick up a quart of milk on his way home.) I handed him a cup of tea, and said, "Don't worry, I will call technical assistance tomorrow and work this out on my own. You won't have to worry about a thing!"
I thought that was a pretty linear line.
He took the cup of tea from me, sighed, and wandered back to my office. Little did he know 14 more crowns would be coming his way.
