Yes, we have no computers
Dec. 11th, 2008 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceActually, of course, the subject line is a lie: we do have computers. We have the Laptop of Heavenly Perfection, as witness; and we have the old redundant desktop, which might be remade into a functional tool. But. This was none the less not a good day to go to power up the main machine and have nothing happen.
Actually, of course, that's a lie too: something is happening. The power button is flashing at me, slowly and sullenly. Nothing else is happening.
I have done the only thing I know how to do, which is to unplug it and let it sit a while and meditate upon its sins. And then I plugged it back in again, and lo: sullen flashing, nothing more.
There is, no doubt, an easy fix for this; but I do not know what it is. I shall shriek for professional help, and pay a man to do something easy. And make my usual resolutions to get myself for God's sake organised, so that next time this doesn't throw me into a total fluttering panic...
And meanwhile I am at the Lit & Phil, borrowing their wi-fi on the LHP and vaguely hoping to do some work (because yes, my back-up system has worked admirably: all of yesterday's work was sitting in my googlemail account only waiting for me to pick it up, hurrah...), but I'm not confident. My brain is all over the place. And my table is in the wrong place (they have Rearranged the Silence Room! They have put the tables back Wrongly!), and quite how a man is supposed to produce deathless prose under these conditions, I am not entirely clear.
Actually, of course, that's a lie too: something is happening. The power button is flashing at me, slowly and sullenly. Nothing else is happening.
I have done the only thing I know how to do, which is to unplug it and let it sit a while and meditate upon its sins. And then I plugged it back in again, and lo: sullen flashing, nothing more.
There is, no doubt, an easy fix for this; but I do not know what it is. I shall shriek for professional help, and pay a man to do something easy. And make my usual resolutions to get myself for God's sake organised, so that next time this doesn't throw me into a total fluttering panic...
And meanwhile I am at the Lit & Phil, borrowing their wi-fi on the LHP and vaguely hoping to do some work (because yes, my back-up system has worked admirably: all of yesterday's work was sitting in my googlemail account only waiting for me to pick it up, hurrah...), but I'm not confident. My brain is all over the place. And my table is in the wrong place (they have Rearranged the Silence Room! They have put the tables back Wrongly!), and quite how a man is supposed to produce deathless prose under these conditions, I am not entirely clear.