Eight technicians, two hours or so on hold, two disconnects (them), one hang up (me.... not as bad as it sounds... technician number 7 told me to hang up on technician number 6), and a bucket of tears later (me, again), my e-mail is now restored (I think). But what a process. Not even the mood altering reflection: "Hey, at least you have your health!" could give me perspective today.
They had me deleting things and restoring things... and deleting things and restoring things. And when none of that worked, they had me go ahead and try deleting things and restoring things. We'd fix something in my mailbox, then break it in Todd's. Then we would delete some things and restore some things. At one point, it appeared that we had blown up something quite fundamental to the operation of the computer. "Oh, my dear," said the gentle voice on the other end of a crackling phone line, "I must now get you to the supervisor!"
Some of you have sent e-mails that are precious to me, including notes from my nearly 83-year-old father (shame on me for not backing these up). When it seemed that all of that was gone... some three hours into today's session(s)... I lost it (in a quiet, sniffly kind of way). It took four more Earthlink technicians and the better part of five hours today to find those e-mails. Mercifully, they were not lost. But somewhere along the way, I think I lost my mind.
And the point of this story is?
I wish I had a pool:
(Very, very mature, I know...)
Coming Tomorrow: Toni Trueblood and a better attitude!