Rebecca Costa

My Yahoo email account has been down for 2 days.  Smack in the middle of the holiday season.  To date, I've spent 3 hours and 27 minutes on hold  listening to a friendly voice remind me that my call is important to her and to please "stay on the line."  The catch?  After waiting a half an hour the same voice returns to tell me that Yahoo is receiving too many calls and cannot take mine at this time...

So I file 3 more trouble reports online, and remind myself that this is the reason we need gun control.

Which brings me to my point.  Some agony is earned.  Say, getting fired from your job because you didn't produce anything.  But some agony isn't.  Say, trusting a big company who spends millions in advertising telling you how important your business is to them. At least my email is savable, many users have lost entire folders and received this gem in response: 

If you don't see all your emails, it's because we did not have the data available. Now that the restore process has happened, we cannot undo it. Warm regards...

For over 20 years I've volunteered for the American Red Cross.  I've seen fires and hurricanes and floods claim the homes of undeserving victims.  Unless you're going to ascribe these tragedies to Karma - from some heinous crime a lifetime ago – no one deserves to have their life pulled out from under them.  So it makes me feel good to lend a hand.  That said, there is one assignment I never volunteered for.  Tornado Alley.  Look – if you choose to live in a place like Tornado Alley – well, you have to share the blame for what happens.  Sorry, but that one's on you.

So this morning – with so many ongoing problems with my Yahoo account - I started wondering whether I'm the person who lost their house to a random lightening strike, or the person who chose to live in Tornado Alley?  Am I suffering the consequences of making poor choices, or am I a victim?  I can't decide.

Five minutes ago I opened up a G-Mail account.  But as I was doing so, I wasn't sure if I'd made the decision to move out of Tornado Alley - or just to the house next door...

We're with you, Jessica.