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Bah!
I just received the following email message from the information systems folks at the hospital:
"You have been chosen to receive a new NT workstation to replace your Macintosh computer.
The new workstation will be a 667 MHz machine with 256 MB ram.
Pete Louzan or Sean McNamara will be visiting you in the next few weeks to help you:
* identify files and folders that you need from your Mac
* copy those files and folders to a network location
* begin storing any new files and folders to that network location
* begin a transition from any email system other than Outlook
* instruct you on how to use the PC and what is different than a MAC
* convert your MAC files to be readable by your new PC
A week after the initial visit, a new NT workstation will be brought to replace your MAC.
If you have a local MAC printer, the MAC printer will be removed and you will be redirected to a Network printer.
Your conversions are scheduled to be completed by March 16, 2001.
Any questions regarding this conversion can be directed to me at x77070."
I am so not happy about this.
I know nothing about PC�s, so I don�t even know if this is a good one that they�re bringing to my desk.
All I do know is that my G3 Power Mac is going away, and I am sad.
I learned how to use a computer on a Macintosh. My mom bought it for my dad when I was a freshman in high school. It was one of those old school Macs, all one unit, with the monitor built in, the kind that the icon that smiles at you when you turn on a Mac today is modeled after.
We have a good working relationship, my Mac and I.
And it isn�t like I didn�t know this was going to happen. I�ve known for months that it was in the works. I.S. hates our Macintoshes. They�ve been conspiring to get them out for years.
But I�m still sad.
On another note, I�m still sick. Chris and I rescheduled our grocery trip to tonight, but I don�t know if I�m going to feel like going by 7:30 tonight when Chris gets home.
I just want to go to bed.
Actually, I want to go to bed and pull the covers up around my head, and turn the TV on to some mindless show, and have someone bring me puffs plus tissues and tea and soup and ginger ale and saltines and cool cloths for my head. And then I want that same person to go away and not try to talk to me or anything. I don�t like company when I�m sick.
Is that too much to ask?
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