I am bushed. Got up round 7 and turned on my Dell and this weird noise started coming out of it. Damn! I decide just to ignore the damn whining noise, but then I see the damn thing is hung and won’t boot. I kick the can a couple of times but no dice. Damn. So I light a cigarette and get down on the floor under the desk with my coffee and start figuring out how to get the can open and the cat starts harassing me because she wants me to turn on the little heater in my closet office. So I turn on the damn heater for her and she goes and lies in front of it.
No heat coming my way. I get the can off but to do so I have to pull all the USB plugs out of the back, leaving in only the juice. I get the can open and punch the on button and still with the noise—towards the back of the can. So I hit the can a few times but it doesn’t stop, so I go staggering around in the dark cause Carol is still in bed till I find this can of Dust-Off which calls itself the The Original Compressed Gas Duster and spray it all over the fan and adjoining parts that are pretty polluted with all sorts of dust bunnies.
And what do you know but the noise stops. So I put the can back on and try to boot up and it does till I get to the damn log in and find that I can’t type my password in so I can’t get beyond the login page. And now the machine is making another nasty noise that I seem to remember having heard before and which leads me to unplug the keyboard from the back of the computer and that makes the noise stop…..And well to shorten an already too long story, after trying like three different keyboards, the one from Carol’s computer works. So now I have her keyboard and she has my original keyboard which didn’t seem to work on my computer but which does work on hers.
So by nine in the morning I was completely worn out. All things considered I was pretty calm. I mean I didn’t swear even once and I didn’t throw anything either. And I didn’t pick a fight with Carol like it was all her fault somehow. Pretty amazing actually since having my computer—with all the stuff I have on it, especially school stuff—go bad gets me pretty damn anxious.
As part of my Identity Crisis I seem to be dropping WB as a role model in something broke down and I have got to fix it mode. Probably a good thing because really all that swearing and throwing things was mostly a waste of time and energy for all concerned parties.
And yesterday I found the panel nut for the place where you plug in the cord to the amp had fallen off of my bass guitar. So when I tried to plug in the cord there was nothing to plug it into. And I didn’t swear or throw anything then either. Although that turned out to be quite a pain since the nut was a metric 10 panel nut, not readily available, as I was to find out in the US though I had some fun looking at web sites with names like “Nuts,” and “NutsCo,” not to mention “Accurate Screws” and “Channel Studs.”