Wake up at a reasonable 5:15 and decide (after glancing at my hair on the way to the toilet) that I will take a quick shower. Shower water runs hot. Wash my hair in record time. Smell so fresh and so clean, clean.
I get dressed. I'm satisfied, even though my gray trousers are a bit too baggy. I blow-dry my hair and pull back the sides in barrettes, unconcerned that my hair is wavy and big.
I believe today will turn out different.
Step outside. The rain is pouring once more, but today I do not care because I have not fixed my hair anyway. I enjoy the train ride. I get to work and make a cup of tea. I turn on the computer with an aim to get back on track with my files and magazine. After my old programmes are reinstalled, I open the magazine to prepare for printing. An error message tells me links are missing. "Ah bugger," I think. "Of course, my links locations have moved." I begin relinking my photographs when suddenly I realise some of them really are missing. No bother, most of them are on the network folder. I open "My Computer" and discover all my network folder access is gone. With a heavy sigh, I begin a scratch note of things to be re-added to my computer.
As I relink I begin to notice that the magazine looks strange. Suddenly it occurs to me - the fonts have all changed. This is when I realise that I'd forgotten to save all my special fonts when they wiped my computer! Panic overcomes me. I try to restrain it. "I will simply go find the fonts I need and download them again." I go to the website where I get my fonts. "ACCESS DENIED" the school firewall tells me. I get more and more agitated. I think, "Okay, so I can't get 'arabolical' just yet, but 'CG Omega' is a standard font, so where is it?" Not in my Fonts folder anyway.
Suddenly, the full weight of the situation crashes upon me, and I become overwhelmed. "Of course! If I can't see the fonts because they are not on my computer, neither will the printers! I should've sent the fonts along with the publication!" Hot tears spring to my eyes. I excuse myself urgently and make a dash for the toilet before all the miserable tears begin pouring down my face.
In the bathroom, I allow the tears to just flow. It's been a horrible week, and now this! I realise that the printers are likely to have begun the process of "bleeding" the publication into their Mac format and probably have no idea that the fonts are completely wrong! The fonts (on my computer at least) had been temporarily replaced with a standard Arial type font, which could look valid (if the creator were one with no creative eye) and so why wouldn't the printers just accept it and begin the work?
I dry my eyes, knowing action must immediately be taken - but what? Tom, our liason with the printers, is teaching a class. I do not know the name of the printers or their contact information. I must stop them from their useless work, lest they charge us extra for the inconvenience or stop working with us because we are such unorganised, talentless sods, or worse!
Yes, yes, it is coming to me. I have emailed them before. Perhaps in their reply they have included a signature. If only I still have the email. I splash water on my face and return to my desk. I search for the email and find it. The phone number is there. I call the printers. I explain the situation. It is resolved. I suppose it did not occur to me how common this is, because they tell me that they always check the hard copy (which we have yet to send them) to ensure they are using the correct fonts. If no fonts are included by the creator, the printers will try their best to duplicate from what they have. I promise to send them the fonts (once I am able to locate them, I do not say out loud) along with the hard copy, and all is sorted.
The rest is history. An administrator comes to my computer and the firewall is lifted long enough to download 'arabolical' and we search the web to find 'CG Omega'. All is restored.
I spend a perfect evening with my husband. Things are starting to look up.