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A Woman's Journal


True Believers

By Maggie Turner

January 18, 2000

True Believers

The day is grey and cold. I am again at odds with the weather, as I feel a warm breeze and the sun is peeking out from behind the clouds in my internal sky. Variety makes the world go round.

January is a long month. It all really starts in mid-December. We are busy with first the oldest daughter's birthday, then Christmas, then the New Year, and then "The Teenager's" birthday. By the time my birthday rolls around at the end of January, I am verily tired of celebrations and disruptions to regularly scheduled activities. I usually want a light dinner and an early night for my birthday. Since everyone else is feeling a little worse for wear after the steady stream of merry making, my low-key approach is welcome.

I am still in the long process of replacing my hard drive under warranty. It died on Friday. I waited until Monday to telephone the 1-800 number provided by MacWarehouse, the retailer that sold me the computer and the service contract. The young woman who answered the telephone at the warranty company was quite pleasant but had never heard of MacWarehouse or me; even the warranty number was invalid. Back to MacWarehouse. I talked to a nice young man who gave me a different telephone number to call for warranty service; this time I was in their database. After discussing the problem for a bit, I was advised that indeed a new hard drive would be installed free of charge. "The Authorized Macintosh Dealer in your area will call you within 48 hours," he said. I believe him, I really do. That telephone should ring any time now, or more accurately, sometime today or early tomorrow morning. The wheels of commerce are turning... turning...

The business day is over now, and I did not receive the much-awaited call... I still believe him. I do.

Fresh baked bread sits cooling on the kitchen table. A low-fat fresh orange loaf sits on the cupboard ready for tomorrow's lunches. The crockpot sat busily and quietly on the counter all day; the aroma of the honey mustard pork chops filled the house. Pretending to be a domestic bandit, I raided "The Teenager's" bedroom and did two loads of dishes as a result. Three loads of laundry are folded and stored away in the cupboards and drawers. I have been busy, and now I am going to curl up in bed with a good book and a cup of tea.


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