This morning started out like any other morning. I had forgotten to pull the shade down again last night, so the sun was beaming into my fully dilated eyeballs at dawn. I blindly sat up and tried to find the floor with my feet. Dragging myself to the bathroom, I stepped on a Lego man and stubbed my toe on the rocking chair. That's the third toe this week. Either I have to move that chair or acquire more toes. As for that Lego man, he's goin down! I ate my Cheerios and choked down some vitamins. By that time, I could see clearly enough to turn on my computer and then I checked my e-mail. Suddenly my computer went whatever the digital version of insane is. There were red things flashing on the screen, sirens and whistles, beeping. I felt like I had just stepped into the Cash Cab.
I read the words "Trojan Horse" on the screen and "Security Threat." Even in my digitally-challenged world, I knew that this was not good.
The e-mail with the issue had a return address that ended with the letters "za." Some computer genius living in a third world country, no doubt. He had some time on his hands and an axe to grind and apparently decided he'd like to make his mark on history in the same way as Bonnie and Clyde and Blackbeard, but with a less labor-intensive activity. I was simply his mark.
Why hasn't he been caught yet? I mean, there can't be that many countries that begin with the letter z. There's Zimbabwe, I think. And Zealand; the new one and the old one. And Zamboni, probably. Tell me, how many computer geniuses could there possibly be in a country called Zamboni? He should be easy to catch. Perhaps Zamboni doesn't have an FBI or a Homeland Security. Anyway, my husband happens to be a computer genius, but he was in the shower. So I did the only thing I could under the circumstances: I went to the kitchen and turned the hot water on full blast until I heard him mutter an obscenity and turn the shower off.
Then I yelled to him through the bathroom door, "Honey, my computer is about to blow up!"
Now, just between you and me, I knew it probably wouldn't actually blow up, but I had to say something sufficiently ominous that would lure him out of the bathroom. He opened the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. Hm, sexy, but first things first. I've got a computer in imminent danger of a full-blown crash!
I grabbed his hand, "Come on, my computers in melt-down mode and only you can save it, Technoman!' He responds faster when I talk to him like he's a superhero. Technoman took one look at the computer, says, "Interesting", and clicked on one button. The threat immediately disappeared and my computer was back to normal. "Kind of anti-climactic, isn't it?" I mumbled. "Yeah," our towel-draped superhero says, "But I think our hot water heater is broken. The shower was cold." I looked away. "Imagine that."