My Office Doubles as an Opium Den when I'm Not There.
Last night someone fed my work computer, like, fifteen valium. This morning it was not quite dead, but more like just really, really mellow. Almost a complete vegetable.
Diagnostic tests read basically: "Everything's cool. I'm totally chill. My memory is fine. The CPU is not in the least bit taxed. We're fine. Calm down. People need to take more time out to wait for the Start Menu to load. Calm down. Take five minutes to sit and wait for the Start Menu to load. It's FINE. No, I don't have a virus or spyware. People do things too fast. Let's all chill out. You don't need that program to open today. Come back tomorrow, we'll talk about it."
I spent the morning limping through my work while the computer insisted nothing was wrong. It just decided that I ought to spend three minutes considering it before I started to compose those e mails. I accomplished only slightly more than nothing.
Then this afternoon, the computer consultant guy spent four hours poking around. I alphabetized my filing (didn't actually file anything) and sat on the floor and sorted papers into "can do without a computer" and "must wait to do" and "can do on my home computer". Then I did what I could. It was very very very very boring.
It was concluded that it wasn't quite dead; it was more like it was a vegetable waiting around to donate its organs after a massive overdose of barbituates. I was given a second tower and told to get my files onto it. Then they'll take my current tower away to more drastic, inpatient rehab. We still don't have a better explaination than my theory that my computer took too many Xanax.
So, I took work home with me. The plan was to get a pizza (that went well), watch my stories, do my work, write in the novel and then go to bed. Gilmore Girls wasn't on, but instead of using that hour to get this work done, I watched an hour of that American Girl Doll movie. This is why I try not to turn on the television.
Then I watched The Amazing Race. It's been over for more than two hours and I am still making spreadsheets.
Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day. Have a huge backlog of work from today, a very time sensitive project that is going to take four hours or more to do, all those files to move, all those programs to reinstall, and then I have to get home in time to, you know, like, pack for my trip to Portland and get to bed early enough that I don't oversleep and miss my plane.
The Fine Print:
2003: chris and I were in, um, Cincinnati for the weekend so I didn't update.
2002: Gah, I whine a lot. I had just arrived in California to visit Shelly for Thanksgiving.
2001: No entry. I was busy being neurotic and chasing boys in Cincinnati for the weekend.
