They say, “It’s easy.” (Not.) They say, "I’ll walk you through it”, but my eyes glaze over. They say “Anyone can do it.” Not me. Behind the screen, in the bowels of technology, where Mr Linky lives, is Dangerville, for me. It does not compute. I am a person dragged kicking and screaming into the land of technology. I used an Underwood manual typewriter for 30 years until my boss insisted I learn computers. I bless him, now.
But, still, there are limits. Every week, I hunt someone down to insert the linky at the Pantry. They may be abroad, or in the midst of crisis, but Mr Linky must go in, every weekend. Staff members who know how to Linky may never quit. My Fear of Mr Linky creates difficulties for my teammates. Mea culpa. But, thanks for putting up with me.
I am phobic about all things technical. I live in mortal fear of accidentally clicking the wrong thing, and the Blue Screen of Death appearing. I have seen it a time or two. I have PTSD from a traumatic experience with Tech Help, exacerbated by the intervention of a very angry brother-in-law.
They say “Face Your Fear.” They say, “Find the thing you fear the most and Do That.” But – umm – I am averse to engaging in activities that will increase my stress to Fight or Flight levels. I hope to reach that Final Screen, if my teammates will be so kind, without ever having to venture into the Land of Mr Linky.
258 words for Magaly’s prose prompt at Telling Tales With Magaly, at Poets United this Sunday: Phobias