I keep the records of donations given to Jessica. I use an Excel spreadsheet to do this. It’s a slightly complicated beast that Scott set up for me a few years ago. It calculates totals and averages and things like that, and it has a separate sheet for each month. Therein lies the rub. Over a year ago, I had created a bunch more monthly sheets, but they only went through February 2015. Since February is now upon us, today was the time to make more worksheets (much like “time to make the donuts”).
Now, it having been so very long ago that I had last added new sheets to the beast, I didn’t remember the details of how to do it, so I started looking at the formulas in the various cells to try to figure out exactly what I needed to do. I did remember that this had been an incredibly frustrating little procedure the last time I tackled it, and in that, my memory proved painfully accurate.
At one point, I was looking at this formula: =H2+’Oct 2014 (29)’!12 But on my computer screen, I couldn’t tell whether or not there was a space between the 4 of 2014 and the open parenthesis. So I did something that seemed innocent enough to me, but evidently was strictly forbidden; I dared to put my cursor to the right of the 4 and then – shock and horror! – click to see if there was a space beside it. Hear Ye! Hear Ye! This is blatantly illegal in Excel!!! If any fool is stupid enough to violate this unwritten law, his or her entire Excel spreadsheet – not just the specific worksheet on which s/he placed the cursor and clicked, oh, no! – will be completely hosed.
And so it was.
And so I was maximally frustrated.
And so I sent Scott an email asking him to please fix the stupid spreadsheet when he got home.
And so I decided to scrap the whole stupid spreadsheet (which has given me various fits through the years, anyway) and create a new one that actually makes sense to me, which works for me, which I can update on my own, and to which I can add as many new months as I jolly well please.
And said creation took me about an hour-and-a-half.
It was indescribably tedious and, since no formulas could be copied and pasted, I did all the manual work of typing 36 different formulas about as complicated as the one above. But I did eventually get the silly thing to do what I wanted it to do, and I did, yea and verily, feel competent.
And Scott came home and offered to fix the old one. Which he did, and then he showed me how to add the sheets I needed. Which I did on the spot (well, on the 15 minutes) because it was so detailed and complicated (well, not for the average 21st century brain, but definitely for mine) that I knew if I didn’t do it RIGHT THEN I’d never remember how to do it. And I added months through January 2017. I was going to go through March 2017, but I made some dumb mistake in February 2017, which I couldn’t figure out how to fix, so I just deleted February and March and left well enough alone, thinking, “at least I won’t have to add any more sheets for a couple of years!”
Much was time eaten, but my mission was accomplished. The main thing was that I proved that I really can figure out how to make Excel do certain things. I cannot, however, figure out how to make it do anything that involves going from one worksheet to another; although this is okay, because, given that I have lived 54 years without having to personally make Excel calculate between two worksheets, it’s fairly likely that I will be able to live the rest of my natural life quiet successfully without ever having to make it do so.
Note To Whom Whichever Programmers It May Concern: Since computers and programs are now so darn smart, they definitely should display warnings stating that they will implode if normal humans do perfectly logical things. For example, if simply clicking on a space in a formula is going to cause my entire collection of 20+ worksheets to significantly malfunction, then it’s really not asking too much to have the program give me some sort of notification of that fact beforehand. Really.