No Writing

Maybe the computer overlords tapped into my brainwaves while I was contemplating stories about evil computers taking over the world or maybe I made one too many complaints about the lazy, drunken gnomes that run the Internet--I offended someone somewhere along the line, because after the elevator incident (which I now see must have been a warning), I've spent the week wrestling with a string of computer problems at work, and then yesterday, my laptop died.

I'd hoped that I just needed a new power supply, so I took it to Futureshop to buy one and had them plug up the universal adapter they sold to make sure it worked. It didn't. So one of their tech guys carried it to the back room. I felt like I was watching a friend being taken into the ER. He tried another power supply, and it didn't work either. My laptop refused to power up at all.

I need to resuscitate it long enough to retrieve my files. I think it's mainly an issue with the power supply, because even after my computer stopped recognizing the adapter, it still ran on the battery. Unfortunately, my battery is dead now too. If I could swap it out with a charged battery, then I think the computer would start. All of that aside, though, I need to get a new laptop.

Why this means I can't write, I don't know. Pens and paper do still exist after all. I guess it's just demoralizing. Of course, this all happens when I have a self-imposed deadline I've been pushing hard to meet, the story half-finished on my hard drive. Every time I get into a groove where I think I can finally start being productive, it lasts for just a couple of days before life somehow intervenes. Always more drama and crises happening in my life than on the page. I really wish I could reverse that.