There is a tidiness to Legos that suits my temperament. I have a “grandchild’s loft” in my home with bricks, train engines, and tracks. Back when the grandkids were young, I’d buy a Lego kit, and we’d follow step-by-step instructions end up with something rewarding that worked. And if a train station got smashed, we could pull it apart and follow those instructions or be creative to construct something new.
No one plays with my Legos anymore, but they are material comforts that I keep around. Who knows, maybe I’ll have great-grandchildren someday.
I didn’t build my website with Legos. I constructed it with help from an online course that contained 101 lessons and videos to illustrate each concept that I didn’t totally understand. Now when I want to problem-solve, I have to figure out how to label the glitz and find a video that may help me.
My latest problems resulted in lost subscribers or subscribers who didn’t receive notice of new blog posts. Eventually, I suspected that the issue was with my web host or some plugin with WordPress that I could not figure out. I’m into problem-solving when I can’t describe the problem, and that is not a productive place to be when you want to cry for help.
Cluelessness doesn’t result in a fast fix
When I don’t have the language for what I don’t know, fixing anything is going to take a long time. It’s as if I’m trying to conjugate a Latin verb without knowing Latin or its rules.
My current problems with AgingTimeBomb.com took both my ISP (internet service provider), WordPress, and a paid plugin that I purchased to solve earlier problems. Of course, I’m the missing link between these entities, and the ISP provides support via phone, while the plugin’s support comes from “Happiness Engineers” via email.
When I didn’t describe the website problem adequately the first time, I had a day to try and find the words and take screenshots to write about the murky mucked-up situation again. Then I’d wait until the next day to get an answer that didn’t work, and I’d start all over again.
Being old doesn’t help
When we are old, it is tempting to stick with what we know and avoid becoming uncomfortable. But I’m convinced that avoiding discomfort is not a rewarding way to age. In my case, to remain more comfortable I would stay clear of a website. But I have observed that writing publically is helping me progress to more emotional ease than I suspect that private journaling would help me achieve.
I’ve lived a life bull-shitting myself, and even thinking that there are a couple of readers of this blog helps me be more reflective than if I went blah, blah, blah to myself. So I’m willing to be uncomfortable and keep asking for help to get the blog fixed.
Maybe being old does help
Sometimes being old gives us assets when we face frustration and need help. First, we have more time although much of it gets sucked up by just being old.
Additionally, I’ve been around long enough to know that it is best to remain gracious to those who are supposed to be helping me even when I think they are helping me run off the rails.
I can also comfortably admit that “I’m not a digital native.” Both kindness and gracious acceptance of my limitations seem to be useful for getting support. Eventually.
Of course, I can only hope this subscription glitz is solved. When you dabble in the uncomfortable unknown, hope is often all you have, and I’m old enough to accept that is just the way it is.
The fallout of this recent snafu is that I believe I lost some subscribers and that others didn’t get notice of new posts. If you once subscribed but did not get a notification of this post, thanks for looking me up and reading. I hope you will resubscribe.
You readers are the people who keep me moving forward, and I’m grateful.