I flew into Portland on Friday night. It was a great flight, not even a bump. Perfect for a Nervous Nelly, white-knuckle flyer like me.
The plane pulled into the gate and everyone in typical after-flight-hyperactivity jumped up to retrieve their baggage from the overhead compartment. For once, I decided to stay seated and instructed the kids to do the same.
The man in front of me did launch out of his seat and popped open the overhead bin right above me. I thought nothing of it until his twenty-five pound bag landed on top of my head.
If you all remember from Physics class, Newton’s Second Law of Motion…Mass x Acceleration = Force…well it also equals OUCH.
Can I just say it hurt like a mother.
I had no idea it was coming so it also scared the sha-bee-bus out of me. Thank goodness the kids were not sitting in my seat.
As an aside, the bag dropper might have been able to react fast enough to stop the accelerating object but he was served four cocktails on a flight only 1-1/2 hours in length. This seemed a little excessive to me in such a short time span. I mean the drink service on such a short flight is so brief but he was downing them one right after the other. Whatever.
I know I should have an MRI to rule out a possible subdural hematoma but at this point just my neck and right shoulder are sore from the impact. It was quite a blow.
PLEASE don’t send me scary stories about subdural hematomas….I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!
To round out my evening I arrived at our apartment 60 miles from the airport. Settled in with an ice-pack and some fuzzy socks. Put the kids to bed and plugged in my laptop only to get THE BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH. OMG, you know the one, the DOS screen alerting you to the possible death march your computer might be entering.
This has happened before…but this time I’m sorry to say, my faithful laptop of five years has moved on to greener junkyards.
The Wild Boar, the great computer doctor in my life, had nothing left in his black bag to heal the wounds I have inflicted over the years. Yes, some hard drive information can be recovered, but the history is gone. He said he will try to recover data when we are home in California.
Fortunately I did not keep photos there but it’s my history of contact information I mourn the most. All the email addresses amassed over five years…GONE! Friends, family and business colleagues….POOF! These may not be recoverable. If you know me, please shoot me an email which will add you back to my contact list…otherwise I no longer have your address. Bummer. I should have run a back-up. And since you know I hate the phone, I won’t be calling you to get it. Double drat.
However, here’s the AMAZING part of the story. The Wild Boar has known for a long time I needed a new computer. I have fought getting a new one over the years because I loved mine so much (and I hate change). I refused every time he has tried to purchase a new one and he has willingly nursed my jalopy along during its many times of wicked trouble.
But the Wild Boar loves computers. HE LOVES THEM. And like any good doctor, understands their lifespan. He knew mine was close to imminent death, even though I was in total denial. And in his infinite wisdom, good judgment and good husband-ness, he purchased a new laptop a while back, without my knowledge.
You see, he knows me.
He knows if my laptop went on eternal death watch, I would FREAK. He was right. While I sucked my thumb in the corner and held myself in the fetal position nursing my wounds, the Wild Boar emerged from the bedroom with a giant box.
MY new computer. With all the bells and whistles already loaded and ready to go.
He even knows me well enough to appease my sometimes love of instant gratification.
I couldn’t believe it. COULD. NOT. BELIEVE. IT.
I have always felt kindness is the strongest indicator of an enduring relationship and one of the biggest reasons why we seek love.
Finding security and kindness in one person who recognizes our idiosyncrasies, accepts them, offers compassion and helps smooth our feathers in times of trouble could possibly be one of the greatest gifts as humans we are able to receive.
For this, I am eternally grateful.