What’s for lunch?

Yes, I’m quite hungry.

Lucky for me, I can still ask. New projects have started to roll in and I’m on my way to balancing my check book quite nicely thank you very much. Soon, I will be able to spend more time (and money) visiting my favorite bistro’s and pizzerias for a light, late afternoon lunch or generously large pizza on Friday evenings with the girls. The reason for my hunger now can be explained.

I’m working to two deadlines and admittedly I have taken my eye off the ball. But, actually now that I think about it, this lack of efficiency on my part is not entirely my own doing. I thought about this long and hard, and one or two girlfriends that told me so before, now say that I probably did the right thing. Initially, I thought that due to my tardiness in not managing all of my files and folders properly and allowing my mind to wander towards social media chat rooms and expensive voyeuristic video escapades, my trusty old laptop had decided that enough was enough.

Now, before I go any further with this story, let me just tell you that it is in actual fact a true story. It really did happen. And like most well-told stories, there is a silver lining. My computer didn’t exactly crash but it was slowly grinding to a halt. Screens started to freeze and getting to my preferred search engine began to feel like a really long walk to China. It became almost impossible to work. I wanted to pull out my not yet blow-dried hair.

I wanted to yell out my worst primal scream yet. I did. Not once, but several times. I even cursed. Thankfully, I am quick to realize the error of my ways and quickly begged for forgiveness. Another thing, I am the first to give thanks when I am bestowed with rare gifts. Really, these days I am truly grateful.

Anyway, I had to do something about this. I was not entirely keen on using my service provider, mainly because it has become frightfully expensive and pedantic to call up the IT guys to carry out the required maintenance. Also, I basically knew what had to be done only I could not do it myself. So, I frantically set out about the neighborhood popping into one shop after another, looking for a favorable quote and the possibility of a dedicated service in accordance with my immediate and most urgent needs.

After tentatively calling on him twice, I finally settled on a Congolese immigrant who was running a twenty-four hour operation within five minutes of walking time from my apartment. It wasn’t the cheapest quote of the day, but this gentleman gave me the assurance that he would be able to carry out the necessary software upgrades and re-adjust some of the settings on my laptop. He would get the machine to hum again. So, I took a leap of faith and took my baby down to the shop.

Give or take having to come home at night, I ended up spending two days at his shop and not two hours as originally promised. And when I asked for a receipt for my payment, he merely folded his arms and offered his wide grin as a receipt. The service was not what was promised nor was it satisfactory. This lucky economic migrant spent more time blaming extenuating factors for a less than perfect job rather than graciously accepting the infallibility of his lack of expertise.

But the lesson was this; this young man was at least making a gigantic effort to make his way in the world.

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