Last Sunday was not the best of days for me. I didn’t feel well and was medicated. I sat glazed through Sacrament Meeting and then left to go home to sleep. Within five minutes of my being home, my computer fell and shattered. Because of urgent demands for the upcoming week, this was an “ox in the mire” for me, the sick oxherd.
Instead of heading for a nap, I headed an hour and a half away to the nearest Apple Store. Going into an Apple Store is not for introverts, Luddites, or anyone who prefers dark corners and quiet (which at that time was pretty much me on all counts.)
The technical diagnosis was swift: Complete death. New computer purcha$e required. Brain transfer to the new computer mandatory.
The Apple People allowed me to roam the mall for the two hours required to get things set up for the overnight mind-meld that required both the old and the new computers.
Wandering around a mall crowded with early Christmas shoppers was depressing everywhere I turned. Throw a swig of MucinexDM and a dash of guilt into the mix and it was a particular kind of torture.