What drives me … to freak out

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For anyone who knows me personally, you know I’m a bit of a spaz. From falling up stairs to wearing half of what I eat, I am not the most coordinated, graceful person when it comes to day-to-day life.

However, I am not one to have catastrophic spaz outs very often. Thank God.

Unfortunately, the culmination of all my spaztic tendencies came together a few days ago at coffee shop that will remain unnamed. I like to work out in the world — it makes me feel more like a worker and less like a crazy cat lady sitting at home with my 3 felines while I try to write.

I had my entire morning planned out; I knew the stories I had to write, what I wanted to drink and even what I wanted to snack on. I’d been coming to this coffee shop for a few weeks now at about the same time everyday, it really did feel like my office.

After ordering my venti, scalding hot tea and carrot muffin, I decided to change things up a bit and sit at a different table than I normally would. I smiled at the other writers/students who I see everyday and proceeded to set up my little work station.

I took out my mini laptop (netbook to some), my agenda, my notepad, cell and a trusty pen. I was careful to move my stupidly hot tea to the other side of the table, away from my computer and the I sat down.

And here’s where it all went terribly wrong.

The table, unknown to me, was missing a leg. As soon as I put weight on the left side, the entire table tipped causing my skin-blisteringly hot tea to careen over my laptop keyboard and my lap.

In a flash I was up and I believe I screamed something along the lines of (children avert your eyes) “FUCK” (followed promptly by a just-as-loud “I’M SORRY” for the profanity, my mother raised me well after all) as the tea proceeded to brand itself into my left thigh permanently.

Immediately I turned to my drowning laptop and proceeded to pour the tea off of it, onto the floor — did I really care at this point? My fellow freelancers clearly sympathized with my spaz session and I was immediately handed a wet cloth and another woman had collected napkins and was suggesting I turn my laptop upside down in an A shape so the liquid could drip out.

Oh God, my laptop.

In those few seconds, my burning, blistering thigh meant nothing as I stared at the blank screen (that had been on moments before) and the flashing blue light that meant my poor lappy was crying out for help after being drowned in caffeine.

Something had to be done to save my laptop.

As I collected my “sorry you had such a shitty experience at _____, have a free coffee on us next time” voucher and insisted that the devil table be removed so no one else could be branded with hot liquids, I was heading towards the door with my belongings jumbled in my arms, my bright white peasant skirt now a pleasant beige all down the front. I had to get home and dry my life laptop.

I piled everything into Pinkie (Ford Fiesta) and drove home, crying from the pain from my thigh and the possibility that my laptop may never turn on again. It was a pretty sad sight if I do say so myself.

As soon as I got home the skirt was in the wash and I was standing in the kitchen (yes, in my undies) desperately trying to rip the back of my laptop off so I could get to the innards and dry them. The 1-800 number on the back caught my eye and I was greeted with much the same response as fellow blogger Average Girl was, much to my dismay and frustration (I thought of her the entire time).

Unable to offer any useful advice about my situation (maybe he would have been more helpful if I’d told him I was standing in my underwear), I decided to go to the only trusted source I knew: Facebook.

Someone was bound to know what to do there.

And so I wrote my heartfelt Facebook status update in the hopes that someone would have the answer to my life-altering predicament.

It turns out they did.


After some hesitation, I placed my laptop in a casserole dish of uncooked rice — open, with the keys covered in rice — and left it like that for 24 hours.

I am currently sitting in the anonymous coffee shop with my free venti tea on the ground beside me (precaution), writing this blog on my laptop. The F, P, N, V and C keys are a bit temperamental, but other tha that it’s workig erfectly.

I have a new found love for rice. Really I do.

Sorry, oh faithful reader, that this post had very little to do with driving — besides driving my to freak out in a really unattractive and unhealthy way.

Drive on,
– M.

~ by drivingmsmiranda on August 6, 2010.

9 Responses to “What drives me … to freak out”

  1. I am so happy that the laptop is working again, and i also have a new found respect for rice! You’ll be glad to know that we won;t have a donkey population explotion as the money that might have been diverted to replacing your laptop is once again going towards getting little Hamish fixed! Thanks to little grains of rice two major diasters will have be averted! Yeah! Rice!

  2. workig erfectly haha 🙂

  3. So glad that your story came to a better end than mine! I had the “click of death.” Best to you~

  4. That’s alright. While I came looking for driving related blogging, that Laptop still looked delicious and I was entertained.

    • Hey Posky,

      Thanks so much for the read!

      I hope you checked out the rest of my blog as it is much more auto-focused. 🙂 Glad to hear you were entertained though!

      Drive on,
      – M.

  5. […] of panicking and crying in the kitchen in your underwear when you pour hot tea on your laptop, instead put it in a casserole dish of uncooked rice and everything will be […]

  6. […] of your back end (unless you’re a dinosaur), or even because I’m in a rush (generally, I’m pretty laid back); it’s simply because I can’t stand being behind anyone on the […]

  7. Hope you’ve recovered from the burn 😛

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