I had a great post. Had this article I liked, had a link, was writing away at it, being almost funny and clever, when I realized I needed to get up and do something.
So I hit 'save now', which is SUPPOSED to save a draft of the post to the Blogger back-end/dashboard thingie, so you can work on it and publish later.
And it went up Blogger's ass, never to be seen again.
Just sorta ruined my Friday. And I have a nail in my rear tire, so I have to remove the tire, get it fixed, and put it back on (well, I get to supervise while The Husband does this, because even though I CAN, I don't WANNA). I cleaned out his van, though, and threw away the WEEK OLD HALF-A-SANDWICH that's been putrefying in a bag in the back.
Oh, and I have two Bosszilla stories, just little ones. He's been getting ambitious with the computer lately -- he does email, he prints it, and he even looks up websites for himself from time to time (I still order stuff for him on MY Amazon account -- he is SO DAMNED LUCKY I'm honest, because I HAVE his American Express Card). So, anyway, we have two little incidents today.
The first one -- he downloads an email attachment. It, of course, does NOT conveniently pop up in a bright red window saying "Here I am, Bosszilla! Here! HERE!". It does what most downloaded attachments do -- heads for the nearest inconvenient folder it can find, preferably one that's hidden and six layers down under a series of almost identically named folders. In this case, however, it managed to get to his 'My Documents' folder.
That doesn't help. He doesn't BELIEVE in 'My Documents'. Oh no, it's GONE, faster than the Easter Bunny in Santa's sleigh. Where IS it? WHY can't he FIND it? He HIT the link that said OPEN. WHAT'S THIS FUCKING COMPUTER DOING? (that's a quote).
I suggested closing a couple of the windows he had open (full screen). OH, but he didn't HAVE any windows open, just AOL. I decided that, since someone else was in the office with him, I could safely evacuate the area. I don't know how it ended, but then again, maybe I don't want to know.
The second one -- He's having a meeting and just before it, he hands me a business card for a new business venture of his. "Go to that address", he said, pointing to the bottom of the card. "I want it up for my meeting."
There is an email address and a url, but he's pointing to the email. It's still early and pre-caffeine, so I type in the email address after he leaves. It, of course, produces an error message. I check my typing -- error -- and fix it -- one of those pages where they try to sell you a web address. So I look at the thing, realize at last that it's an email, and type in the web address. The website comes up.
"No, that's not the one Mrs. Bosszilla got last night. Go to this one -- there's nothing there." I let the illogic of this go by and type in the last part of the email address, where the server is. It comes up with a mostly blank page that requires a log-in.
"This looks like a back-end site," I say in my best geekspeak. "You have to log in to get anywhere."
"No, no, that's the site for [new business venture] and there's nothing there. I'm gonna tell them we should either put something in there, or get rid of it."
"But the website is..."
"No, no, that's not OUR website, that's the main website for [business venture company]. What if someone goes to this like Mrs. Bosszilla? Why isn't something there?"
I refrain from attempting an explanation about all the strange things Mrs. Bosszilla has found online which I had to later correct or disprove. "But that's an email address, probably the server..."
Not good enough. I escaped to another office for the duration of the meeting, only to be called back up for the same thing. The OTHER members of this business venture were trying to explain the exact thing to him. He seemed much more likely to believe them, possibly because at least two of them had penises. Vaginas are stupid, you know. And that's why it was all my fault.
Oh, and one little extra story about Mrs. Bosszilla. She's a perfectly nice woman, and she HAS to be somewhat intelligent. But she had Bosszilla delegate a little project for some charity work she's doing -- a series of plain, square signs, white with black text. She had a list of what text was required. At the bottom of the list was this note:
Arrows -- three right, three left.
I was proofing the signs when I got to the arrows. They were simple arrows, like this:
She'd drawn a little picture.
As if printing one arrow six times and then ROTATING them might be too difficult. I can only hope that the signs don't get shifted around before she gets them, or she may never figure out which arrow is which...