Today was a fun holiday event at my house. We had MASSIVE amounts of food, including more Jello than I have ever seen outside of a church event, homemade rolls, pie, two turkeys, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad, salad, and carrot soup. I might need a wheelbarrow for my belly. uff.
The house was PACKED to the rafters with people, it was noisy and fun to socialize with family and friends and give thanks for everything. People talked about living with babies, new recipes to try, recommended books and blogs, the economy, writing books and the e-publishing industry, health challenges, and whose-clothes-are-these-that-were-left-at-Grandma’s-house. People played card games, tried to keep their food away from the dogs, and offered to help clean up the mess.
At one point in the afternoon, someone who shall not be named (not Voldemort), we’ll call him Dude, picked up my laptop, opened it up and asked someone to tell him what the password was. “Um,
Buster Dude,” I thought, “get your hands off my laptop and I might not kill you.”
“What do you need it for?” I asked.
Dude: “The wireless on my computer is broken, so I was wondering if I could use yours.”
I’m thinking: “We are in the middle of a Huge Event right now, and you have to take care of work online?”
Me out loud: “I don’t give my password to anyone, but I’ll key it in.”
Dude (looking surprised): “Well, okay… I just want to log in to my computer at home.”
I log in, and hand him my computer, all the while stepping on the part inside of me that’s yelling, “WHAT! ARE! YOU! DOING! YOU DON’T EVEN SHARE YOUR CHOCOLATE AND YOU ARE LETTING HIM USE YOUR COMPUTER?!?! YOUR NANOWRIMO PROJECT IS ON THERE!!! AND THE REST OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!
Me out loud: “I never let anyone else touch my computer. Do me a favor and don’t mess with my stuff.”
Dude: “It appears that you have a preference for Chrome.”
Me out loud: “Yes. I do.”
Dude: “I strongly prefer Internet Explorer.”
Me out loud: “I HATE Explorer. But you can use it if you need to.”
I walk away. Fifteen minutes later, Dude is still using my computer. Squinching my eyebrows together, I walk away.
Thirty minutes later, Dude is still using my laptop. I squinch some more and walk away.
An hour-and-a-half later, Dude is still using my laptop. I raise my eyebrows and, over the noise of the crowded room, ask, “Are you almost done with my computer?”
Dude, looking up surprised: “Oh, why? Did you need it?”
Me, STUNNED AT THIS REPLY: “Dude. It’s MY computer. It doesn’t MATTER if I need it right now.” I walk away.
I’m thinking: “I will NOT dismember him. I WON’T. But I SO COULD, if I wanted to.”
Thirty seconds later I walk by. MY computer is closed and sitting where it belongs. The voice inside that’s been yelling at me for the last hour-and-a-half, heaves a sigh of relief and says, “Thank you! Finally. Where’s the chocolate?”
Me to Myself: “What. Are. You. Thinking?!? After this gorge-fest, you want chocolate? NO!”
Inner Voice to Me: “That was a VERY stressful experience, just now.”
Me to Myself: “No. Besides, you ate it all yesterday on a NaNoWriMo binge. And even if there was any left, then you might have to share it with all these people, and how would that make you feel?”
Inner Voice to Me: “Oh. Never mind.”
The lesson I learned today? If I can’t even manage to share my chocolate, I should save the mental violence and NEVER LET ANYONE (except Mr. Hot Stuff, Computer Genius) TOUCH MY COMPUTER.
winner-winner, veggie dinner 🙂
P.S. No, I don’t actually eat turkey for Thanksgiving. That would be a very un-vegetarian thing to do. Not to mention excruciatingly painful.
*Editor’s Note: After having a decent night’s sleep, I removed a part of this post that was unnecessary and quite unkind. My apologies to my readers for putting it there in the first place.
I don’t like Explorer or Chrome. Otherwise, I COMPLETELY share your sentiments.