Let me set the scene: It was a Wednesday morning and I was hanging at my local house of joe, drinking the delicious, dark elixer of life served there and enjoying the view of Queen West from the window. The music was chill, the patrons and staff were being all social-like and then…my coffee tipped over onto my computer.
Swiftly, silently I gathered a handful of napkins and began pressing them desperately against the keyboard, hoping against hope that I was fast enough. Nothing snap, crackled or popped, and the screen didn’t go dead or start flashing warnings at me so I thought I might be ok. I saved what I was working on and shut my netbook down.
As the day progressed I told everyone of my woe, coffee on my computer, and down to a woman they all shook their heads and proclaimed its demise. My denials, my protestations of, “it’ll be okay, it just needs to rest,” fell on deaf ears. Death was proclaimed from every side.
They were right. My netbook, purchased a mere nine months ago, was dead like Disco. So, one new netbook and $280 later I’m trying to set the damn thing up just the way I like it and it’s taking longer than convincing a nun to go to an orgy.
I’ve also had to go back to the beginning with applying all the edits I was sent, combining the hand-written ones with the OpenOffice versions. Fortunately I hadn’t gotten all that far but it’s still a pain in the posterior.
I went from a Samsung to a Hewlett-Packard and I’m not sure how much I’m digging the new one, faster processor or not.
On another topic entirely, I was just wondering if anyone other than my parents is actually reading this bloody thing and if you have any suggestions for things I should be writing about. Let me know…
Blood-Touched 