The plan for a fun weekend was thwarted by technology. Or in this case my Dell Inspiron 600m. I've had this computer for six years, written a squillon words on it, toted it all over the planet and now it's finally doing a dying swan routine. (To be honest, it doesn't owe me anything and I've been tickled it's lasted this long.) Husband, an Alpha Geek, recommended I use the spare desktop we have in the basement for the audio equipment. So we toted it upstairs, starting loading software until I tried to put on the MS Home and Office and I got the "Need Service Pack 2" message. So I loaded SP2 and the machine promptly crashed. At which point my beloved spouse says, "You know, I've had troubles like that before." Now he tells me after I've blown hours mussing with this thing.
I must admit that I felt the overwhelming urge to bury his remains in the back garden, but Georgia has a death penalty and I'm not sure that homicide secondary to computer failure is a legal defense. To his credit, he reloaded the system after repartitioning some of the drives. It works okay, but neither of us are convinced it'll behave itself in the future.
Eventually I gave in and ordered a refurbished computer. I don't usually buy used, but I figured I'd give it a shot this time ($199). If it doesn't work, the "No Lemon" clause in the warranty will give me an out if they can't fix it. Meanwhile I'll do ferious backups like I've been doing with the old Dell and use my new(er) Lilliputian Dell as a secondary computer.
The weekend is over. I'm back to the keyboard hammering away on the word count and for some reason I don't remember having much fun. Bah.
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