An extremely negative aspect of my personality: as laid back and chillaxed as I am, when certain things go wrong, I let my entire world crash around me.
So, I can’t use my writing computer. My machine. My blood and lifeline. Big deal, right?
God fucking damn it. I want to use it BAD. I just keep staring at it. Heh. Writing that sentence made me automatically look to it, wistfully.
I’m going to order a new computer. A decent one. If I’m going to be an author (and it would appear this is the direction I’m taking with my life), I am drawing the logical conclusion that I should have good equipment that helps me write. My keyboard-broken computer of the past is slow, bogs down when I use lots of programs at once, etc.
But it worked. Past tense.
FUCKING HELL! I didn’t want to buy a new computer yet! Fuck fuck fuck!*
Sad Sadey. Pout face. Someone hug me! I should consider myself fortunate rather than spiral into the depths of self-pity. At least I have a computer I can use temporarily. At least I can afford a new one (barely. meh.).
At least I’m not this reporter.
Now I must investigate laptops. double meh. There are way too many options! Advice?
Hot Summer Nights Bloghop is over and I’m happy to say I’ll be sending out over 50 free e-books! Thanks for stopping by.
*Interestingly, I don’t swear verbally. Weird, right? I’m one of those people who says, ‘Darn it’ and ‘Shoot’.