From A Computer, Darkly
I've been trying to post, and I've had a little trouble getting around to it. First, as always, there's the question of volition; maybe it's just the weather, but I've been in a very talkative mood lately, and so volition hasn't been a problem. So what, then, could my problem be?
Something has been in my room, chewing things. First to go was my ethernet cable, which got chewed through sometime before Tuesday night. Then, after Alan agreed to grant me wireless access through his room, I finally got onto Blogger and put a solid hour into a post. I was maybe fifteen minutes off of finishing when Elucubro (my laptop, and a Latin word for "the light by which one writes") got cranky and started complaining about a low battery. Given that I was sitting at my desk, able to visually confirm the power cord's attachment to the computer, I thought this odd. Thrown off by this peculiar turn of events, I decided to close the computer until I could figure out what the problem was. And, in closing El I, by means that I don't fully comprehend, managed to destroy all that I had written.
The power cord had been chewed through, also at some point before I discovered the problem. Being without a second power cord, Elucubro is in a prolonged sleep until I go shell out for another one. So I'm writing from the Artsci computer lab.
This doesn't suit me, I think. I've got my music playing, but I can't ignore : how terribly uncomfortable this chair is; the fact that I'm surrounded by people looking at eBaums world; the keyboard is filthy with the finger-dirt of countless hundreds of students.
After I buy a new power cord this afternoon, I'm going to move my furniture away from the walls and see if I can figure out how the sharp-toothed menace is getting in. If I find the bastard himself, I have every intention of eighty-sixing him, minus one.
-Alfonzo
Something has been in my room, chewing things. First to go was my ethernet cable, which got chewed through sometime before Tuesday night. Then, after Alan agreed to grant me wireless access through his room, I finally got onto Blogger and put a solid hour into a post. I was maybe fifteen minutes off of finishing when Elucubro (my laptop, and a Latin word for "the light by which one writes") got cranky and started complaining about a low battery. Given that I was sitting at my desk, able to visually confirm the power cord's attachment to the computer, I thought this odd. Thrown off by this peculiar turn of events, I decided to close the computer until I could figure out what the problem was. And, in closing El I, by means that I don't fully comprehend, managed to destroy all that I had written.
The power cord had been chewed through, also at some point before I discovered the problem. Being without a second power cord, Elucubro is in a prolonged sleep until I go shell out for another one. So I'm writing from the Artsci computer lab.
This doesn't suit me, I think. I've got my music playing, but I can't ignore : how terribly uncomfortable this chair is; the fact that I'm surrounded by people looking at eBaums world; the keyboard is filthy with the finger-dirt of countless hundreds of students.
After I buy a new power cord this afternoon, I'm going to move my furniture away from the walls and see if I can figure out how the sharp-toothed menace is getting in. If I find the bastard himself, I have every intention of eighty-sixing him, minus one.
-Alfonzo
posted by Alfonzo Debussy | 1:32 PM
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