flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
So, true story, while I’m usually pretty self-sufficient with this glowing box I’m currently typing into, occasionally I need help. And, okay, usually the thing I need help with is a legitimate thing, as it was in the case that led to this drawing, but sometimes. . .
Sometimes I call ATT because my internet is down, and I’ve already rebooted it and the computer and nothing is woooorking and I want my Neeeetflix (whine, whine – not to the IT guy, mind, I’m not a bitch. Internal whingeing only.) and we go through all sorts of things and he can’t figure out anything either, and we finally schedule a time two days from now for a tech to come to my house and I sigh and thank him.
And then I realize that the cat pulled the phone cord loose from the wall just enough that while it looks like it’s plugged in, it’s totally not. And then I dope slap myself and call back to cancel the tech.
And I beam with pride at my incredible brilliance.
Also, I call IT at work all the damn time because my supervisors won’t let me try to fix anything myself, even if it’s just a simple hard restart, and inside I can feel my IT brother weeping bitter tears. That is, my actual brother, who does IT – I”m not calling all IT folk my brothers because that would be weird and also inaccurate since many of them are womenfolk. Hi, Ian!