Today, I did something quite out of character for me: I cleaned up my computer’s desktop.
Now, it may seem like an inconsequential thing for those of you who probably order your lives with immaculate precision, cupboards stacked neatly and based on priorities of package size and weight. Closets hung with clothes in precise rows, hangers carefully inserted along the shoulder seams of shirts, and pants limply dangling from giant clips that correctly align the creases.
But for me, being a person who is a little more haphazard in my storage habits, my desktop represents an extension of my non-cyber environment. WORD files and pictures are scattered everywhere, downloaded pdf’s clog every corner and shortcuts to every conceivable cranny of my hard drive abound. So much iconic clutter, in fact, that launching a program is often akin to a search and rescue mission.
I see it as a uniquely personal, electronic filing system that ensures important information is easily accessible at all times. The problem comes in the perception that EVERY piece of information is important and, as such, must rest on the desktop for an indefinite period of time.
But today it got to be too much, even for my prodigious leniency towards chaos. As I squinted through the maze of colourful objects now totally obscuring the cute wallpaper of my cat, Dante, I knew it was time to take action.
So, with a burst of janitorial energy that surprised me, I clicked and dragged and deleted in a frenzy of desktop salvation that left me so exhausted I had to check my e-mail just to be sure I hadn’t gone too far in the reclamation effort, and that I did have a few actual programs left on dear old lappy’s hard drive!
Imagine my panic when, sufficiently distracted by the various tangents that my messages led me to, I returned to my now unrecognisable desktop. “Whose laptop is this?” I choked. “Where’s mine? Someone has kidnapped my beloved lappy and left behind this sanitized, orderly substitute to mock me. Where are my documents? Where are the shortcuts to my three thousand folders? Where are those zipped, executable files to install programs I will never use? Somebody help me! I cannot function like this.”
It wasn’t pretty.
So be warned, a desktop clean up can be a traumatic experience and one I would advise no one to undertake lightly. Careful mental preparation is necessary, and probably a few deep breathing exercises to help combat the feelings of loss and panic that will inevitably ensue.
I am still having acceptance issues whenever I minimize a window.
Sigh!
Photo by Lucas Hoang on Unsplash
by angela lovell 