Oh, dear friends, I can’t even begin to be eloquent tonight. I hate to do this to such a kind and patient crew as yourselves, but I am afraid I have to rant.
Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit. Big jobs.
At the moment, the exact moment, that the existentialism virus showed signs of lifting, at the very moment that I knew it was time to resume my long-winded bloviating, maybe with a recipe for homemade ricotta included in the mix(yes, Vicki, there is a recipe, and it’s coming soon), my laptop decided to freeze up, in a manner completely impervious to ctrl+alt+delete, necessitating hard shutdowns and reboots. Now, this has been happening a lot over the past few days, but only tonight has it happened seven times in 30 minutes. And each time, it has taken sizable chunks of the post I was writing.
Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit. Big jobs.
Lloyd and I are trying to determine whether it’s because of the machine overheating or because my web-based e-mail contains a piece of Java scripting that gives my laptop indigestion. Either way, if this means the near-death of a laptop I’ve had for all of six months, I will be ever so pissed.
Okay, rant over. I think. Nope. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit. And, uh, big jobs.
In non-ranting news, in exactly six weeks from this moment, I will be in Arkansas, settling myself down to sleep under the cover and comfort of the Ozarks. Keep your fingers crossed for me in the meantime.