� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
That may not make sense, but it sums up my afternoon since church. To understand, I need to backtrack to when I lived in my apartment in Poky. I lived alone, and well, in my last year there, I almost became a complete homebody. Sandy came four or five times a day to help me, sometimes hanging out. Other than that and my friend April I was mostly alone. I was burned out, low in spirit and miserable. I wanted to go home. But there was a time in the beginning where I liked being alone. I liked being my own master, making my own rules. I knew what I had.
I want it back.
The one thing about the computer world that I hate is the constantly changing software. I know I've said this already at one point, but I don't care. I'll say it again: Newer isn't always better! That goes for MSN Messenger, ICQ, even wheelchairs. (You heard my complaints about the Rainbow Serpent, so I won't repeat them here.) The poor assumption about new things now extends to Morpheus. From what I could gather hackers or other people messed up the Morpheus network so you cannot even connect to it. The company came up with a new version. Called the Preview Edition. I had to download it if I wanted to continue with the program. I may need to learn how to use it better or find out if there are any ins and outs that I'm not seeing. But it is by far inferior to my other version. I cannot save (pause) or resume downloads, I cannot find out the quality, the siger/group or the bandwidth, the search field is a mere shadow of what it was. Perhaps I should do a search and see if I have the right edition. I sure hope I do. I lost five downloads because it illegally shut down on me.
So as you can tell I am not pleased. But that I could deal with. I am just having a biorhythm low. Being told to adjust my moderated, quiet tone, however, only added to it. I was watching Confessions of An Ugly Stepsister. Mom is like most of us, we ask questions in the middle of a movie we walk in on about the movie. We also assume--there's that word again--the others will know the answers. She asked me a question; I responded in a quiet tone with no obvious hint of impatience or snappiness that I didn't know. Dad was at the computer balance their checkbook and my answer swiveled his chair around. I got the most reproving look I've ever received.
"Shiloh, if I were you, I'd watch your tone."
Excuse me? I answered plainly. That's all. Besides, Mom didn't think I was impatient or rude. I guess that's what matters. So then, why do I wanna cry? 
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moon phase |
