sitting in front of the terminal

It's now officially time for me to get my shit together, no more dilly dallying around the halls of Dana, no more surgeries, no more long waits to be prodded like cattle into the overflowing infusion center for chemo. So what's next? I suppose I should get working on that silly little thesis that I was supposed to write in April. No problem, I'll sum up 7 years of biomedical research into a tidy little book and get on with it. First things first, let me open up a file. I'm not asking much here brain, it's a file. On Mac's, there's a terminal window and when you open it, it just sits there and waits for you to type a command. It won't read your mind, it won't talk you through the steps, there's no comfort icons that let you click your way from one cutesy bubble to the next, just a blank screen that looks agonizingly empty. I opened my terminal today and it was as if someone had smeared marshmellow fluff all over my brain and said...go! I finally remembered the most rudimentary steps, and eventually was able to run my programs, but man, I'm in for a steep ascent back into the world of science. Where's the remote, I need a sitcom first!