Jeri's Journal

It all started on Monday morning when my work computer began blank-screening on me. Interestingly, each re-boot would result in a different colored screen—first gray, then a brilliant green, then red, a nice autumn orange, white, and finally Microsoft Window’s favorite: royal blue—all preceded by the hopeful reappearing of wallpaper and icons. Once, Internet Explorer even came up, but my elation soon gave way to the WHITE SCREEN OF DEATH.

My machine obviously had some serious problems. Fortunately, my co-worker was out that day, so I was able to get some of my work done on her PC. Meanwhile, Help Desk Guy took my computer to run a virus scan on it. Like a visitor in a foreign land, I struggled to get my work done on the other computer. I was mentally exhausted at end of the day and was getting ready to finally drag myself home when my phone rang. It was my friend Debbie. She was upset and had some bad news: she had just gotten a call from our mutual friend, Marcia. Marcia had a Dr.’s appointment that afternoon and had received the bad news that her breast cancer had returned with a vengeance. She had several new tumors and it had spread to both lungs and her lymph nodes. Perspective…

In the midst of this grief, the struggles with my computer issues just kept coming and the demands of work were unrelenting. With the virus scan completed, I was told it cleared up a couple issues, so I hopefully booted up the machine and—Fail! The familiar blue screen appeared. On to the next step: Help Desk Guy switched out the motherboard. That did the trick! The computer booted up and was running! “Yay!” I thought, “Now I can get some work done!” (Doesn’t take much to make me happy!) I celebrated prematurely, however, as I kept getting booted out of my query tool. Plugging forward, I figured out some workarounds to get the job done. Then Wednesday night, I discovered that I had a similar problem in getting into my accounting program as well. Now an accountant has no true existence without accounting software, and something had to be figured out quickly because close was hitting the next day, and I could not perform my job without it! (For those who are unfamiliar with the close process in accounting, it is best described as an all-out assault on time and resource—a computer and paper-intensive, mind-numbing, key-punching marathon that strikes the first few days of every month.)

Thursday morning close blew in with a vengeance. I pleaded with Help Desk Guy to get me a secondary laptop to use so that I could run my reports and get my work done. To put it in technical terms, each computer function that I need to complete my job is like a separate “Princess and the Pea.” Each princess is obsessively aware of any minor “pea” or glitch or setting that is not just right. Finicky beyond reason, I think. But what I think doesn’t matter. My computer was a synchronized work of art. Her princesses

were quite happy and well behaved—before they all went bad. I reasoned that between the contrary princesses and the fresh upstart laptop, I could get the job done without a time-intensive, major re-installation of programs. Once I got the laptop connection to the network finally set up, I was ready to go—running queries and zipping through my work—first with the princesses then switching over to the upstart to run the programs that the princesses refused to run. I was the mad scientist, feverishly multitasking, ready at any moment to let out the telltale ‘Whahahaha!’ of creative genius. Then ‘flash’ it all went out in a blaze of glory as the upstart’s screen went into seizures. With a buzz of horizontal frying color, it finally settled upon some nice, two-tone green vertical stripes.

Screeching halt.

By this time, I was thoroughly convinced that I was surrounded by some negative force-field—that everything I touched just turned to mud. I was stuck in some odd fairy-tale world that bore little resemblance to reality. Help Desk Guy came down to find me slouched in my cubicle of gloom. “Um, yeah…I guess that’s my fault!” he confessed, “I kind of had a feeling that there was something wrong with that laptop.” What am I, a guinea pig? Actually, his lame explanation helped. It wasn’t my muddy fingers after all. The new upstart that was provided was much more amenable to my plans, and despite numerous other issues (seriously, I could write a whole book on the obstacles that I encountered this week) I got through it all amazingly unscathed.

In retrospect, I am struck by the calm, steady drive that I seemed to possess amidst the chaos. At each juncture, I simply reassessed where I was and how I could continue on track to the best of my ability. Problem solve: what is the best solution at this point? Take action. Move forward. Okay—I admit to those grim moments when the exhaustion of it all just overwhelmed me and I considered some creative alternatives (scream, yell, go sledding down the fresh blanket of snow that covered the back hill of our office, go home and start over, just go—anywhere) but I would soon recover and carry on to the next solution.

Something happened this week that changed everything: perspective. The accounting world is replete with important deadlines and demanding processes. As an accountant, you learn to rise to the demands, fulfilling all of your required tasks in a timely manner and to the best of your ability. It’s all about keeping your priorities straight and using your time wisely. While my work got stuck in the logjam of computer trauma this week, it was as if I was in a suspended animation mode. In between all of the insanity, all I could think about was my friend Marcia and what she was going through. How small in comparison were all of my struggles against that stubborn, impenetrable wall, when the wall that my friend faced was so much more indomitable and real? My struggles pale in comparison, and importance.

The true job ahead of me now is to be a good, true friend. Please pray for me toward that end, and pray for my friend, Marcia, that she will know the grace of God as she faces the white screen.