Some Cheese to Go with Your Whine, Mademoiselle?

I do not think of myself as a whiner. I don’t particularly like whiners—even if they’re little kids. Whining is unattractive, annoying and unimaginative. It isn’t clever or thoughtful or insightful.

But after yesterday, all I can say is, “Bring in the brie, havarti, cheddar, mozzarella, maytag and parmesan, Baby!” I had enough whine in me to handle all that, plus more!

I think what I did (because I am still not absolutely sure) was completely wipe the hard drive in my father’s computer. Pictures, e-mails, copies of letters, investment thing-a-ma-jiggas are all gone. Lost forever in the deep, dark, morass known as cyberspace.

It all began when my dad’s computer froze on me. No amount of creative threats, mouse shimmying or pressing ctrl+alt+del made an iota of difference. So I did the only thing I knew to do: I unplugged the computer. I waited 30 seconds. Then I plugged it in again. As the computer was re-booting (or whatever it is called, yes, I’m one step away from being a Luddite), I saw on the screen: “F10 = System Recovery.” I thought to myself, “Yes, I would like to recover whatever I may have lost when I unplugged the computer.” I proceed to press F10.

BIG mistake. After it goes through the “recovery” process, I am left with having to set up this computer like I just took it out of the box! All the user names are gone. I even have to go through the process of setting up the internet connection. Now why in the name of all that is logical and not misleading would the computer equate “recovery” with “wiping your hard drive clean”?!? That is not “recovery,” that is erasing. Starting over. Clean slate. According to the dictionary, “recover” means: (1) to get back or regain; (2) to make up for; make good the loss or damage of; (3) to salvage.

Pressing F10 did the exact opposite of all that! I lost, damaged and wiped clean so as to begin from scratch.

I felt awful. Still do. So what did I do in this moment of crisis? Was I stoic? Did I begin reparations? No. I started to whine. (Yes, it helped as much as one would imagine, that is to say, not at all to negatively…refer above to the irritating/annoyingness of whining).

I whined to my brother-in-law who happens to be our family’s computer go-to guy (Whaaaat do I dooooo?). I whined to my parents in apology for losing all their stuff (I’m soooooo sorrrryyyy!)

My mom said: “It’s only computer stuff.” Of course, my mom only uses the computer to play spider solitaire. My dad uses the computer to e-mail, manage his investments, keep copies of business letters and to store pictures taken on vacations and other important picture-worthy events.

At best my whining made me feel better in the short-term…like an indulgence. But then I started getting annoyed and irritated with myself for being such an annoying, irritating whiner. Plus I was feeling weak for having indulged myself in such a wallowing pastime.

Seriously, why could I not have left well enough alone? If I had not pressed that idiotic F10 button, everything would have been fine. But for that F10 button, I would not be loathing myself so entirely right now. For being an idiot. For being a whiner. For indulging in my whininess. For being an indulgent idiotic whiner. Bleh.

I am all for equality and not showing favoritism, but I must say, I will never be able to look at the F10 key in quite the same way again. A part of me will always loathe the F10 key.

I’m sorry, Dad! Deceived by the F10’s siren call of “recovery,” I led your computer into cruel rocks and taunting waves only to be torn asunder. Waaaaahhhhh!

Now, gimme some cheese!