I do this fun thing: I go to people’s home offices, small businesses, and such, and fix their computer problems. Sometimes this means that I help troubleshoot their small networks, test a cable or two, reinstall their software, replace faulty components, and the like. It’s a kind of deluxe service, really.

Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty good at this. I even like it, at least when the customer is nice enough. Most of clients seem to like me, not because I’m a total computer geek (I’m really not) but because I’m calm and reassuring as I go about finding solutions to their problems.

One client of mine is a pretty busy doctors’ office, where they have severals doctors, nurses, and medical support staff, and a fairly complex computer network setup as well. They have to deal with a medical computer resource company for some of their needs because they have to do medical billing and the like, so I am only a part of their technical support. I basically fill in for them where their other resource leaves (blaring) gaps in the service they provide.

For example, the file server at the doctor’s office recently up and died and so the office manager called this support company and was soon up and running with a leased replacement PC. Unfortunately, the tech who’d come to set up the leased PC apparently took it upon himself to remove the “dead” computer. And all the data on it. You know, the data they’d been “meaning to” back up ever since I’d last recommended that they get an external hard drive and back up their data.

When I came in to help them with their transition of using this new PC, they asked me why their shared files weren’t coming up anymore. “Those files are all on the dead PC — where is it, I’ll help restore the files from the hard drive. Where’s the old PC?” I asked, not realizing it had been whisked away the day before, theoretically to be recycled. The poor office manager was apoplectic; she called them and was told in no uncertain terms that it would be impossible to return the hard drive to them. I then calmly told her not to accept that answer; their files were certainly not recycled as quickly as all that, get that drive back and I’d try to rescue their files. And with this push from me, she called back, got what she wanted; the hard drive came back and I was in fact able to give them every file intact. Success.

So you can see where the loyalty comes in: sure, I can’t do their medical billing software, or maintain the server that handles it, but I can damn well help them identify bullship when it comes rolling in. And getting data off of a hard drive is well within my comfort zone of PC repair.

The thing I like about fixing stuff, is that it’s so definitive. I have a task, a goal, it’s usually pretty short term, and it’s either possible or not. I can usually do a typical consult within about 2 or 3 hours; sometimes it’s more like 4 or 5, but generally it’s easy to do this part of my job within the confines of when I have childcare. Once in a great while, I bring my kids along to a fixing stuff gig, but I avoid that as much as I can. I don’t like being interrupted by the little ones, and I feel guilty telling them to go away and play in the doctor’s waiting room (for example). I also don’t feel very professional wearing my yogurt-smeared mommy hat when I’m trying to fix stuff and sound calm and reassuring.

The other thing I like about fixing stuff, is I can charge for it. I get about $100 per consult, more if it’s longer than two hours. I feel like that’s a nice way to pass a couple hours; I get paid, my clients feel happy and grateful. Such a win-win. And for some bizarre reason they like to tell me I’m a genius. (Well, says my inner snark, I may well be a genius, but fixing your network connection is not proof thereof.)

One other thing I like about fixing stuff, is that I feel cool when I can pull a screwdriver out of my little backpack. Sure, a few other things might accidentally spill out along with it, but hey, a gal needs what she needs, right? Only really a problem when you happen to be traveling through an airport’s security checkpoint. The TSA doesn’t look kindly on even itty bitty screwdrivers.

I think of the fixing stuff as my main real “freelance” work. It’s the only aspect of my work that both pays and is directly for my work and my work alone.  Other services that I do are sometimes farmed out to subcontractors, programmers, or Drob — and our web hosting sales are directly supported by the sys admin stuff that D does. But the Fixing Stuff… that’s all me.   That’s very gratifying.