The trip back on Tuesday was fraught -- yes, I said fraught -- with angst and exasperation!!!!!
Got to the airport in good time. I thought things would go well all day.
Oy!
My flight's boarding was "delayed" for maintenance. Supposed to be a 20-minute delay.
Thirty-five minutes later, we were called to start boarding. As is the custom, anyone needing "special" assistance boarding (wheelchairs, crutches, folks with young children) were called to start things off. A woman with five young girls went to the gate. It seems she hadn't checked them in yet. No boarding passes save from their connecting flight. Said woman with five girls had been in the terminal a full 30 minutes, had not been booked for this particular flight but, because of the delay, was referred to the flight to continue her travels. What possessed her to wait until boarding is the mystery as the same person at the gate was earlier at a desk checking people (but no, not the woman with girls) in. No, this woman, for whatever reasons, decided that all of her business should be done when the flight was to be boarded. This checking-in took 10 minutes as we all stood there. We had one Delta rep for this flight and she had her hands full.
Once we boarded, we sat like so much fish for 10 minutes waiting for clearance to move toward a runway. We were in luck, the pilot announced. We were third in line. Yes, third in line for "that" runway. There were only three flights going out at that time. Why it took another 25 minutes for our flight to take off is beyond mystery to me.
Why all the angst, you ask? I booked my connection to San Francisco with the expectation that, as always, the flight from Columbia would arrive "early". And, I'd given myself only an hour to connect to that San Francisco flight. My connecting flight was scheduled to depart at 11 a.m.
Sigh. We arrived at 10:20 but didn't get to the gate until 10:35 a.m. And it wasn't a gate, per se...it was a ladder we walked down, followed a path on the tarmac and then entered the terminal.
I was at Atlanta's Concourse D...and my connecting flight was at Concourse B. Anyone knowing the Atlanta airport will understand the time/effort it would take to make my connecting flight. Of course we were at the far end of the terminal. I raced, I tell you -- RACED -- down the middle of that concourse for all I was worth. I HAD to make that flight. I got to the middle of the concourse and approached the escalator. I raced down that behind a woman on a similar mission. The lucky thing is that the shuttle train was there and I dashed on board seconds before the door closed.
Getting to Concourse B was rapid, thankfully...but it still felt like an eternity.
I was the first one off the train...and I raced to the escalator and ran up it, announcing to folks ahead of me that I was coming through! The gate I needed was at the middle of one arm of the concourse. I ran, breathless. I'm sure it wasn't pretty at all.
What did I find when I got there? Had they closed the gate? Was I too late? Had my seat been given to someone on standby? Would I be able to get another flight without waiting hours?
As it turned out, my flight was boarding. I was panting as I got in line (there were hundreds waiting to board, but I was in line for a Zone that had just been called). Happily, I got to my seat and was able to take some deep breaths and cool down a bit before sitting. From then on, the trip was fine...including some of the most outstanding first class service it has been my privilege to experience!!!
Getting home from the airport was easy-peasy. When I got home, however, I was met iwth a rude surprise: The elevator wasn't working. Bloody Hades! I took stairs to my 4th floor condo with just my carry-on and unlocked my door. I then went back downstaris to get the rest. I began lugging the rolling suitcase up the stairs with a second bag slung over my back. I did three -- count 'em -- three flights like that. And then what do you think???!!!??? On the third floor, the elevator doors open and a woman with two kids in tow stepped out. Miraculously, the elevator responded to her call from the garage. I got on and rode the single flight to the fourth floor.
I methodically began my unpacking which went very well. I began thinking about sending e-mails out and reporting my arrival here at HHW. I turned on the computer and continued my unpacking. About 30 minutes later, I was aware that my computer screen was blank...usually, I get a little computer tone alerting me to log in. I told the computer to wake up...but the monitor kept going back to sleep.
What the hell?
As I was reviewing the situation, I noticed the power light was off on the hard drive. "Oh, rats!" I thought. "I didn't press the power button down." I then did so. Nothing happened. I checked the connections. All was well.
The rest was simply a series of re-visits to the scene...trying the same things over and over...not wanting to believe I'd need to get repairs...not wanting to think about buying a new compter. I decided I'd sleep on it and figure things out "tomorrow" because, after all, "tomorrow is another day." I was so tired...I'd gotten home at 3 p.m., and I went to bed at 7:35 p.m.
Yesterday, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. Still on east coast time, naturally. I dressed, had coffee and then drove in to my office where I collected much mail, packages from co-workers, and a few nice things from Amazon.com that I had ordered for myself. Among these things was a Verilux reading lamp, a new telephone with handset exension, a new electric razor, and an HP printer/scanner/fax machine (that I was afraid I'd regret having bought owing to my computer situation). NExt, I took clothing to the cleaners and returned home. I opened mail and packages, and I oohed and aahed over stuff, including a very thoughtful copy of "Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol" from a truly wonderful person.
Next, I assembled the new reading lamp. Then I set up the new telephone. Then I sussed out the instructions for the new razor and set it in its charger unit.
I ate two roast beast sammiches my mom had made for me to take on my flight (she made four total and I'll have the other two today). I watched a couple of shows on my DVR.
And then I stewed and fretted and re-thought out the hard drive situation. I decided to call Bryan, my tech friend at work, to ask for a referral. He knows all the right places to find stuff and get stuff fixed that are computer-related (since he does that for the County). Bryan asked some questions to verify I had thought of everything that might be wrong...and he was satisfied that I waited longer than necessary to call him. Obviously, the hard drive isn't getting power when the power source is viable...so it must be the power box inside the hard drive.
He told me to take my unit to Best Buy's "Geek Squad". So, I did.
Long story much shorter now..."Geek Squad" guy gave the hard drive the once-over, determined that it was indeed power-"less"...and told me a number of things they could do (diagnostics and then calling me to tell me what was wrong and how much it would cost), but then recommended that replacing the power box would likely be the best solution and that I could do that myself. Cost: $59.
I was skeptical...yes, and more...but he told me I should let the existing connections be my guide to making the new connections. Just do one thing at a time, starting with taking out the old box and installing the new. The connections would make sense once I started.
The drive home was fraught with a lot of thoughts about whether the "Geek Squad" guy was right...and whether I'd be able to make sense of the situations.
I got home at 3 p.m. I set up a work area and removed the cover from the hard drive. I opened the box of the new power unit. Hmmmmmm. I reached for the instructions...and was shocked that there were no illustrations...no step-by-step instructions. Not even a schematic. It was specs and nothing more.
Well, I thought, I could always take it back and let them do it if I couldn't.
At 3:35 p.m., my last connection was made and I plugged it in.
Ecstasy!
And that is my last two days.
