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ravenI am just about ready to give up and die. All I want is for things to work, dammit!
I have now spent about five hours running around, on the phone to BT, connecting this wire to that wire, installing, uninstalling, configuring, reconfiguring and giving in to the urge to hit things with a very big stick. The wireless modem works for every room in the house except mine. If you lift the modem and carry it into my room, the connection disappears. Take one step over the the threshhold, and signal strength leaps to excellent. So - I wish I was kidding, but I'm not - we disassembled my computer and carried it across the room, and reassembled. It still doesn't fucking work, dammit! Why can't it work?!
BT were oddly helpful, particularly as I happened to speak to the same person both times I called them, and spent an hour on the phone each time. They took me through it step by step, but there's a point where they can't help any further - they can't explain why radio waves refuse to enter my room!
And my mother and Dadi are being fucking annoying, saying I'm getting worked up over nothing. Fuck it. This was my plan, my idea, I got things together, I did the research, I spent hours on the phone to BT, and I've spent my entire day running up and down, and now my room's a mess, my computer's in pieces and it's "not a big deal." Yes it is. Yes it fucking is. I don't have to tell you people that every computer has a personality, and it's possible to get quite attached to one. And failing that, I am rather attached to the layout of my room, which is now completely fucked up.
[Edit - Pedar says it's working. Fantastic. I'm going to take a shower.
I have now spent about five hours running around, on the phone to BT, connecting this wire to that wire, installing, uninstalling, configuring, reconfiguring and giving in to the urge to hit things with a very big stick. The wireless modem works for every room in the house except mine. If you lift the modem and carry it into my room, the connection disappears. Take one step over the the threshhold, and signal strength leaps to excellent. So - I wish I was kidding, but I'm not - we disassembled my computer and carried it across the room, and reassembled. It still doesn't fucking work, dammit! Why can't it work?!
BT were oddly helpful, particularly as I happened to speak to the same person both times I called them, and spent an hour on the phone each time. They took me through it step by step, but there's a point where they can't help any further - they can't explain why radio waves refuse to enter my room!
And my mother and Dadi are being fucking annoying, saying I'm getting worked up over nothing. Fuck it. This was my plan, my idea, I got things together, I did the research, I spent hours on the phone to BT, and I've spent my entire day running up and down, and now my room's a mess, my computer's in pieces and it's "not a big deal." Yes it is. Yes it fucking is. I don't have to tell you people that every computer has a personality, and it's possible to get quite attached to one. And failing that, I am rather attached to the layout of my room, which is now completely fucked up.
[Edit - Pedar says it's working. Fantastic. I'm going to take a shower.
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on 2003-08-12 12:52 pm (UTC)Computers can be such a pain sometimes. I prefer not to deal with them. I just wait until Nic comes to town, then I make him fix everything at once. Ha!