iDumb

I don't understand technology. As a matter of fact, I don't understand the inner workings of much of anything.

A few weeks ago we changed over to a Geothermal Furnace. What does that mean? No idea. If you ask me, the only difference between our old furnace and our new furnace is that warm air blows out of our vents now. That's nice.

A few months ago we bought a new fancy washing machine. I'm completely baffled by it. I never hear water running. I never hear water draining. I never hear it spin. The only sound it makes is the occasional Click. I've tried popping in during the middle of a cycle. Click. One day I tried standing there through an entire cycle. Click. Click. Click. It was halfway through when I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the washer lid and realized I looked like Jack Nicholson in "The Shining" right before he started throwing a ball against a wall and repeatedly typing "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." I forced myself to walk away.

So it should come as no surprise that I have zero comprehension of my iPhone. Don't get me wrong, I know how to use my iPhone. I love my iPhone. I feel naked without my iPhone. My iPhone makes me feel complete. It's become this strange little extension of my body that I don't understand, but think about a lot, and could never live without. (Insert inappropriate comparison to how men might feel about their man part....minus the need to scratch it....here)

That brings me to what happened here today. I was sitting in my recliner, wrapped in a quilt, enjoying my bowl of coffee while I watched Joyce Meyer. Today's lesson: Set your mind on Peace. Decide that nothing is going to upset you.

Sounds good. Got it. I set my mind on Peace and I decided that nothing was going to upset me, either. That felt great, for 10 whole minutes. Until I reached for my iPhone to make a phone call and literally gasped out loud when I couldn't find the picture of the little green phone. Key Pad, gone. List of contacts, gone. Ability to make calls, gone. Peace on my mind, gone.

My only connection to the outside world was the ability to text. I immediately texted a friend and asked for some ideas. She suggested restarting my phone. No luck. Then she suggested I seek the help of Siri.

I won't dwell on my strong feelings about Siri. The bottom line is, she's useless. I tried using her to send a text once. The phrase she was supposed to send was "put my mind at ease." The phrase that Siri actually sent was "Please find my diddies."

But in my desperation, I asked Siri for her help today. She referred me to 4 different Tai Food Restaurants in New York City. Siri is officially dead to me.

Two hours and one panic-induced hyperventilating attack later, my friend solved the problem and walked me through the steps of how to reset my Home Page.

Crisis over and soon after I was wrapping myself back up in my quilt, knowing exactly who was responsible for that entire fiasco.

I blame Joyce Meyer.