My dead MacBook and a not-so-Mexican wave

Today began well with a bracing swim in the Bournemouth sea on the coat tails of a great weekend at WordCampBournemouth. Then it turned into a dog show.

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After checking out of the Mayfair (a lot like Fawlty Towers) and while making my way back to London, I was forced to confront the fact that my computer had been grey-screening for about 48 hours. No amount of coaxing was persuading it out of it and so to Apple I fled.

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The MacStore Genius online booking form didn’t work but I spoke to a legend of an Apple guy called Tom (who called me back when the line dropped) and ended up going in to the Covent Garden store where I was told the earliest I could get an appointment was Sunday and that, after quick examination, it was likely a permanent hard drive failure.

When you are in a foreign city with friends you can count on two hands your internet connection and laptop become a lot more than just stuff. My friend, Rosie told me this when we were back in Cape Town and I understand it fully now. When working remotely: no lap top = rapidly exhausted iPhone battery and then no working ability at all. A dream for some, my nightmare.

I walked to the nearest iStore but they had a waiting period of five days. At this point I began to feel squeaky. I bought food because I turn into a monster when I don’t eat and set my face like flint back to the Apple store.

The guy who helped me buy my new computer was an angel in a navy shirt and got me laughing about the fact that I repeatedly kept entering my password incorrectly. I thought I was losing my mind (and am pretty sure he did too) and only realised hours later it was because # on a UK Mac keyboard uses alt not ctrl. Of new so much there is.

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Feeling I had beaten today, I sat down to write copy for a newsletter that was heading out to a predominantly US market and in it used a term that in South Africa is 110% vanilla – dare I say, positive – but up north can be interpreted as racist. Moments after it was sent the tweets began. So much for making a casual Soccer World Cup reference in the afterglow of Germany’s victory. Week three in my new job and I do something that would work well in a how-not-to case study.

In Northern America the moment in a sports game or concert when everyone gets excited and leaps to their feet in sync is called a wave. Nothing more.

Thank goodness for the friends I am staying with who cooked delicious dinner, their pixie daughter, Ella with whom I watched Peppa Pig; cups of rooibos tea and excellent Apple support.

Today was below average but what that actually means is that my average day is better than this. That’s a plus! I have so much to be grateful for and those are the things. and people, I am going to fall asleep thinking about.

Olé.

One thought on “My dead MacBook and a not-so-Mexican wave

  1. A wave. An awesome wave. Not a Mexican one. Oh my, that cracked me up 😀 sorry it didn’t work out so hilariously your side!

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