TechnoSnooze... or, how to finish your work while asleep

M
y first computer hooked up to my TV. I popped little plastic cartridges that held the programming on it into a console. If my work needed to be saved, I had blank plastic cartridges to
record that too. Back then, everything came in little plastic cartridges. This kept landfill operators in business and was the lifeblood of our economy. Everything came in little plastic cartridges, like 110 mm film and your sister’s new Barbie. 
Then the PC — or personal computer — came out. My first PC was something called a Tandy. And no, it wasn’t made out of leather. It was made out of melted down little plastic cartridges that were retrieved from landfills that were too full. The cartridge was replaced by a disk that was housed in a plastic sleeve. It was called a floppy disk and measured a mile and a half square. 
Eventually, those “floppies” were scaled down to 3½ inches, and the disc was housed in landfill plastic, which became a cartridge again. It also had this little sliding metal door on it made from landfill aluminum cans. The display for my computer was no longer a TV. Instead, I had this box large enough to build a house in, and it weighed 1,100 pounds. It was called a monitor. They too were made out of landfill plastic cartridges but also incorporated landfill nonreturnable bottles.
Now, as the need arises, there’s always a technological advance to come in and save the day. Eventually, all the landfills in the world were emptied out of the little plastic cartridges we used to throw away. So nobody was able to make 3½-inch floppy disks. And because bottles were no longer made of glass but of plastic, house-sized PC monitors were also no longer able to be made. I’m not sure where the plastic for bottles came from, but
I’ll do my usual in-depth investigative research into that and get back to you.
That was about the time the compact disc and the flat screen came about. You didn’t need recycled little plastic cartridges to make those. They could be made out of all the brand new little plastic cartridges that had gone unsold in the little plastic cartridge store. Because there were gazillions of those stores around, we will never run out of that wonderful natural resource.
And shortly before this came the Mac. I’m not sure of where the war between Steve Jobs and Bill Gates got started, but I’ll bet they shared a fence that separated their backyards. They would stand there, pointing at each other, shaking their fists, and yelling, “You’re a poopy head!” “No! You’re a poopy head!” Because of that, we have two different operating systems, with each functioning as poorly as the other.
The News Letter Journal uses Macs. I resisted using one of these for decades. Partly because I thought, at first, they were manufactured by recycled mac and cheese dinners, and I didn’t want to put my hands in that. 
Later, I figured out that they were made from recycled Macintosh apples. Apparently, they were made from the unsold apples that went
bad in the grocery stores. That
didn’t improve my opinion of them. Add to that the fact that Bill Gates was able to yell, “You’re a poopy head!” louder than Steve Jobs. Because of that, he earned the right to control the other poopy heads of the world. In the 1990s, he was able to make it a law that all Macs were nothing but glorified paperweights. Ask any PC user, and they’ll tell you that this is so.
So why was the News Letter using glorified paperweights to do all their work? That became apparent the moment I walked into the back of the office. There are stacks of old papers all over the place, and they needed something to hold those piles down.
So I bought a Mac. 
When I first opened the box, two things struck me right off the bat. The first was a pleasing aroma of apples. I immediately melted some caramel and poured it on my Mac to finish the job. After the tech I hired cleaned it up and got it operating again, I decided I had better read the manual to figure out how to manage this new monster.
I fondly remember pressing “Cntl+Alt+Delete” to solve all my PC problems. That was simple and straightforward, even if I didn’t know what “cntl” or “alt” meant. 
If that didn’t work, I would click my mouse a million times. That also would eventually fix all crashes because doing that for an hour would wear your computer’s battery down, and it would turn off. After it charged again, it was up and running normally. By that, I mean it operated slowly and with the blue screen of death reminding me that I really had no idea about anything.
Secondly, I found out how different Macs are from a PC. To me, mine is a laptop, but I’ve been told that it’s a MacBook. Now I know what a book is. You have to turn pages to read those. This is not a book. It is a laptop.
Also, if you want to do anything on it, you can’t just press those three little keys and make it work. NO! “Cntl” has been renamed “control,” and the “alt” key is just missing. Apparently, Jobs misplaced it when he was more intent on calling Gates a poopy head. Instead, you have
to press “control” and “option” simultaneously. 
Okay — that didn’t work. I better read in the real book what I have to do. Let’s see. It’s says that I also have to hold down the “shift” key, the F1, F3, F5 through F9 repeatedly press “option” and then … zzzzzzzzzzzz.
I’m sorry. I fell asleep while trying to figure out how to operate this thing. My head slumped forward and landed on my keyboard. It apparently rocked back and forth as I snoozed away and pressed every key in just the right order. At the same time, sleep-drool leaked out of my mouth, seeped through the cracks of the keyboard and shorted out the motherboard. And, wouldn’t you know it—this story has been written while I slept through random chance, like the infinite monkeys scenerio.
I love my job. It’s so easy I can do it in my sleep. Next week I plan to take a nap and write a story about the difficulties of putting a jjw’;nm0n20yt6_(#jmasgi;l[poin together.