Satisfaction guaranteed
Jan. 25th, 2002 12:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
barringtonWhen something goes wrong in what is supposedly your field of expertise, it leaves a deep dark feeling of dread in its ineffective wake. "Do you really know what I'm doing?" asks Self-Doubt, arching a nauseous eyebrow in a condescending manner. "What are you doing here? You should've left this to the real experts. It's not like you have a degree!"
These situations are the man hitting his head against a brick wall, because it feels so good when you stop. Case in point: I add some hardware to Julian's computer. Everything goes as smoothly as honey cream in a country show homemade sponge, despite the case being horribly designed and needing a good kick up the arse. However, once reassembled, the machine enters the long dark sleep of power denial. I haven't done anything that could cause such damage, but nonetheless it happened when I opened it up, and I can't find any obvious fault. "It must be the power supply," I say, but the dread has me in its grip and the fear of failure wells inside like the white sand in a conical black bath about to be filmed in reverse.
Last night, however, I bring home a spare power supply pilfered from a mostly empty case at work, plug it all in, and voila! My expertise remains intact. I didn't kill the computer - a parts failure, timed to make it look like I did, was the culprit.
So, kids, you can trust Uncle Ben with your hardware. He does know what he's doing. And from now on, he's going to more confident in his abilities.
These situations are the man hitting his head against a brick wall, because it feels so good when you stop. Case in point: I add some hardware to Julian's computer. Everything goes as smoothly as honey cream in a country show homemade sponge, despite the case being horribly designed and needing a good kick up the arse. However, once reassembled, the machine enters the long dark sleep of power denial. I haven't done anything that could cause such damage, but nonetheless it happened when I opened it up, and I can't find any obvious fault. "It must be the power supply," I say, but the dread has me in its grip and the fear of failure wells inside like the white sand in a conical black bath about to be filmed in reverse.
Last night, however, I bring home a spare power supply pilfered from a mostly empty case at work, plug it all in, and voila! My expertise remains intact. I didn't kill the computer - a parts failure, timed to make it look like I did, was the culprit.
So, kids, you can trust Uncle Ben with your hardware. He does know what he's doing. And from now on, he's going to more confident in his abilities.
