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Computer housekeeping has been a bit of an obsession with me from the gitgo. It was absolutely necessary on my early computers because they didn't have much hard drive space. The first computer I owned, a Mac Classic, was fairly renown for having a 40 megabyte hard drive. Forty megabytes was huge back then. Up until then, both the operating system and all data was placed on 1-2 meg floppy drives.
My brother wrote his first book and stored all of it on floppy disks. There was a whole stack of them in addition to back-up disks. Finally, he was able to buy a huge 80 megabyte external hard drive that he kept the operating system and most of his book on. His Mac was an earlier model that didn't come with a hard drive, only floppies. I remember how overjoyed he was with that first hard drive. It was very large, and in a metal casing that was almost as big as his computer itself.
The iMac I use now came with a 500 gigabyte hard drive. It has 425 gigabytes of open space. I don't have to do any housekeeping to speak of with that much room. The Mac operating system does most of what needs to be done automagically. I feel a little left out of the process, so I piddle around pretending my computer needs me, but it's still the other way around.
The housekeeping I did this morning was to use SuperDuper to back up my internal hard drive to an external drive I bought specifically for that purpose. That's all SuperDuper does. Well, except for the fact that it makes the external hard drive bootable. If the internal hard drive fails the external drive boots the computer and has everything on it but maybe the very latest entries.
I sure hope the internal hard drive doesn't fail. It is written that it's hell to get inside the iMac to replace it. I don't think I would attempt to do it myself. That lack of confidence could cost me mucho dinero, and I'm a miser.
"It takes a worried man to sing a worried song..." ~Kingston Trio
It's taken a very long time for me to grok the notion that I am is a miser. As in greedy. Eat up with avarice. My chief feature and deadliest sin. I had to get around to noticing it in myself before I could perceive it in the other, but when I did I realized I wasn't alone in my depravity. The stuff I studied that helped me to realize myself, in this regard, concluded that the odds ran about one in five people that are pawned by this disintegrating outlook.
The central point for me is that my avarice is so limited to a nay-me-able condition. That condition is and always has been defined rather severely, but when it comes into play so does my greed. I can be quite harsh in my employment of it. I might not kill you for my right to be alone when the ti-me co-me-s.
That's probably why the rheumatoid arthritis suddenly bloomed into abject agony. I probably couldn't kill anybody for interfering in my need to be left alone at certain times in my life. Physically, I mean. I am certainly not physically able to beat anybody up without it hurting me to do it more than it hurt my victim. I have to rest in between typing paragraphs now.
This might be all about my crying "Somebody stop me!" for unending decades to attract sexual partners. I thought there was an unending supply of tolerant do-gooders who just love to spring into action to save me from a most perilous death. That was fairly true as long as I presented a dashing figure with eccentric needs.
"...but, he grew old
this knight so bold,
and 'round his heart
a shadow,
grew as he found
no spot of ground
by the nayme of
Eldorado..."
~ E.A. Poe, El Dorado
What I could not "see" that might allow me to recognize that I am is a miser was my incessant need to be alone. I need to be alone for a specific reason. I don't experience truth in real time. I only "get it" upon devout contemplation without interference. I am is a jealous god, and nosy. I can't contemplate my own shit with anybody else around. Not even God. Not even "when the dew is still on the roses..."
When I studied the Enneagrams and realized through listening to the workshop tape that I shared something the testimonials described I sort of went into shock with the truth of it for-me. It's not that I don't like being around people, I do, but there are times when I gotta be alone to contemplate my own self or I get jerked around big time playing catchup.
There is nothing particular important or interesting about what I contemplate about myself. It's just that if I don't take my own point of view in consideration in light the other's opinions it's like blaspheming the spirit in which I am is me.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
