Yesterday, my work computer kept locking me out of Outlook.  I would shut down, log back on, wait a few minutes and it would lock me out.  Repeat.

I called the Help Desk.  For some reason, the computer seemed to sense my betrayal.  Now the computer began locking up as soon as the desktop appeared.  Things were going downhill quick.  I submitted a ticket for computer repairs to the Help Desk.

I began to search for alternatives.  The computer in the spare office wanted no part of me and I could not even begin to log on.  The department’s spare laptop had vanished.  For some reason, I could check my email on my phone, but nothing else.  I was being rejected by the grid.  The World Wide Web had banished me.  I was a non-person, a digital outcast.

It was close to Noon, so I figured I would go to Target and Christmas shop.  Clear my head a little, as opposed to banging it on the desk.

I walked the aisles.  I listened to Holiday music.  I shopped.  I relaxed a tad.  The cobwebs began to clear.  The anger began to subside.

Returning to the office, I figured I would give my computer another try.  I turned it on.  It booted up.  It let me log on.  It appeared as if all had been forgiven.  Whatever e-slight I had committed was no longer an issue.

I called IT to report the development.  They indicated that every now and then with log on issues, a computer will lock you out of the system for 30 minutes.  A little forced separation.  A little needed time apart.

Now, my computer lets me enter data and check email.  In return, I don’t open too many windows at once or Google every random thing that enters my head.  We had found a middle ground.  We realized we needed each other.  We had rebooted our relationship.