Oh, what a glorious morning it’s been! Nothing like a dog launching itself onto your stomach to remind you you’re alive, right? Who needs an alarm clock when you’ve got a furry wrecking ball? Then, off I go to deliver blood—because what’s more exhilarating than starting your day with “that” little joy ride? Oh, and surprise! A bonus overdue bill that insurance *just didn’t feel like covering.* Ah, the thrill of adulting.
Next stop: Best Buy, where my $275-a-year warranty plan apparently only covers the privilege of being told, “Sorry, we can’t touch that because Mac is too fancy for us.” Cool, cool. No worries, I’ll call Mac support! Surely they’ll save the day. Spoiler alert: They didn’t. Their troubleshooting steps were so helpful that I still can’t remove “Find My Mac,” can’t ship it in, and oh, the nearest Mac store? Just a casual 80 miles away. Totally convenient.
Meanwhile, my inbox is blowing up with client emails. You know, because technology is supposed to make life easier—except when it doesn’t, and instead sets your soul on fire (just like my MacBook, which is now doubling as a space heater). I’ve got 10 minutes to get anything done before it overheats and turns into a toaster. And let’s not forget Scott, who’s juggling his own life while I’m over here like, “Hey, can you also help me not set my house on fire with this laptop?”
Speaking of fire hazards, I left the dogs home alone because clearly, today wasn’t chaotic enough. They’re probably redecorating the living room with teeth marks as we speak. Oh, and because I’m a genius, I decided to cook eggs on an empty stomach. Fast-forward 10 minutes, and I’m starring in my own one-person food poisoning drama. Salmonella for breakfast? Chef’s kiss.
And the best part? It’s not even 1 PM. Can’t wait to see what the rest of the day has in store. Maybe a meteor? Fingers crossed!
Wait though, another twist in the day of… Oh, the joys of modern technology, where your $3,500 “investment” from 2018 is now worth less than a decent dinner for two at a steakhouse. Let’s take a moment to appreciate your laptop’s midlife crisis: deciding to moonlight as a space heater while simultaneously developing an attitude problem with its spacebar and trackpad. It’s like it hit its rebellious teen years—five years late.
So, after nearly setting your lap on fire and enduring its refusal to play nice with your Apple ecosystem, you decide to take action. First stop: Best Buy, where your $270 warranty has aged like milk. “It’s been too long,” they say. Oh, you mean the “five years” since I bought this thing? My bad for thinking a warranty might actually, you know, “warrant”something.
Next up, the Apple Store. After an hour-long conversation with a guy who probably Googled your problem mid-call, you’re handed off to a salesperson with the charisma of a used car dealer. Their solution? Rip out your laptop’s guts, charge you $1,200, and offer no guarantees. Oh, and the cherry on top? That little smile when you mentioned erasing your data. Classic.
Back to Best Buy, where Jennifer is lovely (thank you, Jennifer), but the rest of the experience is like a corporate scavenger hunt. They can’t fix it because it’s “older”—a term that’s starting to feel personal at this point. Then, a helpful sales guy swoops in, dazzles you with AI talk, and shows you a shiny new Windows laptop. Great! Except when you look it up online, it’s $850, not the $1,100 he quoted. Oh, and your $3,500 MacBook? Worth $150 at Best Buy or a generous $200 if you’re willing to wait for Apple to mail you a check. What a deal.
So here you are, sitting with a glorified paperweight that doubles as a fire hazard, wondering if you should just sell a kidney to fund your new computer. Do you go without one? Well, considering your current laptop might spontaneously combust, it’s already halfway there. Maybe it’s time to embrace the “no-tech” lifestyle and start writing letters by candlelight. Or, you know, find a way to turn that space heater into a side hustle.
Reba Nietert 