Technology As Psychological Torture

My life is complicated lately. I run at a very high speed, from the moment I wake up 'till the time I lay my tired little head upon my tempurpedic pillow. I think I may have been a very good stockbroker, ER doctor or school teacher -- for me, it's all about emergencies. Every task, every thought has to be captured and put in a place and dealt with so I can move on to the next. Thinking has its place, but like everything else, it's just a place.

It wasn't always this way. There was a time when I just let the thoughts roll through and see what came my way. Dreaming.

As I may have mentioned, I've been writing a book in my spare time; granted, not the book I thought I was going to write, but probably the only one I can write at this time. And like everything else, it has it's time and it's place.

I bought a copy of Filemaker Pro at work to take care of a database project that needed doing. Seemed like the best solution. As an added bonus, they offered to send me, at no additional charge, a copy of their "Application Suite." Sounded like a cool deal -- all I needed to do was register. So I did. And then I waited for the email with my download instructions and serial numbers. Days passed, yet no email. I tried again. No email.

When I had just about given up, I received 4 emails with information for a totally different product. Crap. I should have taken this as a hint. No, I went ahead and called customer service -- pushed my rights button as a consumer and asked for something for free -- not even knowing if I really needed it.

Well, I installed it and it seemed cool. A good way to keep track of to-do items and meeting notes and the like. Perfect for notes on my book.

So I took all the crumpled pieces of paper I had and typed them in and added to them in the only way a typed record can, and I threw the crumpled note scraps into the trash. A perfect filing.

So I thought. Later at the office, I opened the computer and started tapping in some new notes, and suddenly I had that strange feeling like something was missing -- that same feeling you have when you're in a cab to the airport for an international flight and you wonder if you packed your passport, even though you know you have. This time, I was wrong.

Filemaker is a bastard. Stupid thing lost my notes -- all of them -- discarded them like panties at a franternity party -- for no apparent reason -- no crash, no message, no warning. Just gone. Kaput.

I instantly called Marsha and asked her if she had emptied the trash. Luckily, she hadn't. I was saved. But why had this happen to me? What had I done wrong to Filemaker?

Whatever it was, I'm not going to depend on it to get things done. I've got too much to do.

I think einstein said it best:

"Technological progress is like an axe in the hands of a pathological criminal."