Seems I spoke too soon

Yes, my computer is working. Yes, I can connect to the internet again without having to reboot every 10 minutes. Yes, most of my data is back to where it should be. All is right with the world, yes?

Not exactly. Maybe it's me. Let's go out on a limb and assume that it is.

This technological hiccup has messed me up.

I don't know how many of you can understand this, or how many of you there are, but my life seems to have been inextricably linked to my computer ever since I brought my first one into the house in '98. At the time it was a lifeline out that I had to protect. At the time, it was my only hope. I wrote, I chatted, I laughed, I cried ... I literally lived through this machine. Serenity was my name and I was a real person, finally, with a chance to have something resembling a normal life. The irony of the fact that the 'real' life that I had was all in virtual reality is not lost on me. It was the only way I survived the hell that my real life had become.

My obsessions may have changed over the years but they all centered around this desk, even as it and the machine on it has evolved. I went from poetry to poetry chat to coding pages to building websites to writing to distance education to working to what I have now ... a life that absolutely revolves around my ability to be connected to my files ... my past, my present and my future. My passion.

I have to make order out of the chaos ... and not just on my computer but it my head. Somehow this has messed up my internal working. I try to play music but I realize I have to reconfigure iTunes ... and then I realize I lost all my customizations, weeks of work just gone. I like my things to run a certain way so I tweak until I get it just right, micromanaging every function of this machine, every setting, every detail ... and now I realize I have to do it all over again.

I relied on my messenger and my email client to store precious documents, precious memories that I would visit whenever I needed a touch but was too far away to be able to reach. Now when I wake up at night, shaking and alone, I have no way to reach out and, if I try, my fingers come back empty. I feel very alone without my memories even if I, we, are making new ones every day. Does that make sense?

Maybe I just miss the data I've lost. It's almost as though I lost a part of myself. The part that lets me see just how far I have come. That was one reason I want to get a tattoo of the symbol of Serenity ... not only is it a way of life but it is a reminder of who I was, of where I came from and how I got here. I think I need these reminders. Starting over is hard ... even though I have tangible evidence here and there, reminders of my journey are important to me.

I'm distracted and disoriented most of the time lately. I can't seem to complete anything. I've gone out several times this week to do tech assistance and have only solved one or two problems. To illustrate how bad it was ... we had a VCR that was hooked up wrong and I couldn't figure it out. What's up with that? I got my wireless router for my laptop but I can't get it working. Ok, that is a bit higher on the list of difficulty but still ... that's my job, I should be able to do this. I have a DVD/VCR for the living room but can't bring myself to try to hook it up.

My confidence is shaken. My electronic mojo is disturbed. I have to align myself somehow, find my center. Not easy when I feel achy and queasy all the time.

Maybe it's just the flu. Maybe it's stress. Maybe this too shall pass.

Yes, I think I'll keep telling myself that.