It is interesting that those two "extremes" are so closely connected. Perhaps passion fueled? In the two cases that are at the forefront of this blog subject I cannot say true passion, but more that old idea of what represents convenience. I do practically all my "business" sitting in this chair. Bills are paid, shopping secured, ideas researched. I am sure you get my drift. So, when my pharmacy informed me that I could set up automatic refills on the meds that I am on, I was delighted. Having worked in pharmacy for years I know the importance of giving the pharmacy about five days to do the refill. But with this automatic refill I no longer have to remember, right? WRONG. Last night I noticed that I was down to one day left. I decided to do a quick check on the computer. NO REFILLS LEFT. It is not a huge deal, except that the doctor must be called to authorize. I am thinking I did myself no favor by going with automatic refills if I have to remember to check my profile five days ahead. In fact I gave myself a false sense of security. This means that I will either search for a different pharmacy or just bag the whole idea. I guess in a way passion is involved, because I tend to be a bit more likely to fly of the handle if something computer related goes wrong. There just seems to always be a tiny bit of tension whenever I sit here. I haven't a clue why, but there are a number of reasons that could hold the key. Cyberspace can be synonymous with the black hole. At any given moment the computer could crash taken with it those files that I have not yet backed up. In the next couple of months I will be getting an external hard drive that will do that automatically...sigh. There I am, back full circle. Is automatic always better? Is it even sometimes better...I am thinking any time I rely on a machine to do what my brain should be doing I am flirting with the double edged sword. So, for now, I have many disks full of my pictures, emails, and other important "stuff."
oh, and in case you are wondering what the other case of love/hate is:
I have disliked, no hated, tomatoes most of my life. There is the time a friend ran and got "juice" and I took a swig thinking "fruit" and got tomato. I must have been quite young as I remember we were in her family room dancing and pretending we were Princess Aurora. Lights were off so that the flashlights could be spot lights. Then there's the time I was traveling with the Drum and Bugle Corps and the crate of tomatoes was going bad so they forced us to eat them...not in a salad, or cooked in a sauce. We had to eat them as one would eat an apple. And they were really getting mushy. It makes my stomach lurch to think about. Then there was Mom's quick and easy version of a salad. Slice a big tomato on a plate and sprinkle it with powdered sugar. Nasty!!
However, I developed a new found love for the fruit/vegetable on the trip. It really could have been anything that S2 left on her car seat that warm day in September. But it was a tomato. Every time I see one now it makes me smile. Do I want to eat one? Heck no! But I can come up with any number of good places to take pictures. I just need three things together at the same time; the camera, the tomato, and the "set." I think I need to hit the salad bar.
Oh my. tomatoes with powdered sugar? We should write a cautionary tale: 37 things not to do with an innocent tomato. Oh gah. I bet we could come up with that many! We will make our tomatoes stars, instead.