Apparently I am a space hog...

The Marine was looking at my inbox on my email just a little while ago. He made a disgusted noise and guffawed at me.

He told me that if HE were the network administrator for the server that house our email he wouldn't like me very much.

I looked up in awe, no actually annoyance, well, more like awed annoyance and demanded to know why. He said "You have two thousand, seven hundred, ninety-seven and a half emails in JUST your inbox! It's all being stored on their server... I could show you how to save those and free up that terabyte your hogging"

I looked at him in amazement and said "Wow... HOW do you know that?"

To my complete amazement he looked even more irritated (if that was even possible) and showed me the number in the bottom left hand corner of my screen. Oh wow, I'd never noticed that before. OH WOW, it was a big one.

Then he looked closer and saw all my organized folders that related to my job. All under my in box...

He couldn't even speak. He gained his composure though enough to offer his gallant assistance.

He told me he could tell me how to fix it but I probably wouldn't listen to him.

I told him I would behave if he would tell me how to save them to my computer so they wouldn't be lost.

I'll spare you the conversation. It wasn't as bad as some in the past but the phrase "you're pointy clicky-ness is making me angry... You won't like me when I'm angry...." (reference the Incredible Hulk)

Ok, he didn't say the angry part, but he did reference my pointy clicky-ness in a rather irritated tone.

He MIGHT, have a good reason to be annoyed, but I'm not admitting to anything here.

I don't wait for him to tell me exactly where to point and click. It's much more exciting for me and keeps my attention better when he's using technical type language to try to guess where he wants me to point and click next. My fingers get excited and they point and click pre-maturely. It's a problem. I'm working on it.

The first step is admitting you have a problem. Well there you go. look at the paragraph above. I've taken that first step. Not ready for the second one... Heck I'm not sure what the second step would be anyway.

Sometimes I quit listening by accident and try to cover up that I quit listening by just pointing and clicking on something. I get lost and start thinking about other stuff. It's usually not the right thing I choose to click on to cover up that I had quit listening and this just takes my computer lesson to a whole 'nuther level of tension. Usually not a good one...

If I'm in the mood I can diffuse the situation. If I'm already frustrated I can pass the whole 'nuther level and ramp it up and we enter the "quiet zone". NOT a good place to be. He throws up his hands, says something about the black techno cloud that hovers over me and that's the last I hear. He refuses to help me for about five whole minutes.

However, I know what his Myers-Briggs personality is. He is the Field Marshall. He can not NOT lead. He can't help himself. I am the flame to his moth. He is drawn back to me and my 11001100 computer mess, or excel spread sheet tangled web of columns and rows, or my html coding catastrophe... you get the picture.

He physically ITCHES to fix me! It's rather endearing later on after we have kissed and made up.

So we got past the quiet zone, and I went to work moving and deleting. I ended up deleting/moving about four thousand, thirty-seven and three quarters emails.

The really sad part, I'm not even exaggerating this time!

Most importantly, I asked him if he thought the Road Runner's server guy would like me better now?