sab

Lennier, my stalwart companion, my refurbished IBM ThinkPad, got infected with a deadly virus because his operatrix (that'd be me) was foolish enough to open an e-mail attachment from

wearemany (who should not be blamed in any way for Lennier's ailment -- she herself got the virus from mine own father) because I love

wearemany so much I couldn't bear not to hear what she had to say. Even though it wasn't We speaking, per se.

Twelve hours later and I've reinstalled the system software and I've lost everything. Well, everything that

runpunkrun hasn't secured, which, god love her, is plenty, for she is my Runpunk and my Salvation.

But mostly I've lost everything, including -- and most painfully, at the moment -- my pirated full copy of Photoshop 7 which I would swear is on a cd around here somewhere unless I gave it back to PTP. Which I do hope I did.

Also gone is my full install of Microsoft Office, which, who cares, except I don't have Word now and I paid for that.

And all I wanted to do was watch some Buffy. *sigh*

Anyway, it's gone, all gone, my half-fics and my icons-in-progress and the nine hundred fonts I downloaded and the first half of Babylon 5 season one that took TWO WEEKS to get through Bittorrent and all of this season's Andromeda and my address books and my bookmarks and, you know, everything. All gone. Kaput.

Lennier's back up and healthy, in the blue of Windows XP health. I can't even re-make my nice Buffy/Giles wallpaper (the training room shot from...now I've forgotten the ep title, but the nice one, with the couch and the mats and the target) without Photoshop and I'm missing the half-million codecs PTP so carefully selected for me so's I could watch all these Buffys.

Appropriately, Buffy's just returned from the dead over here and she's not thrilled about it. I'm not sure Lennier was in heaven, but he's carrying on cranky for all that he's lost.

I saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last night. It was very Charlie Kaufman and expectedly weird and solid. It took about forty-five minutes in for me to care about the characters, but it was a good stealthy left hook when I finally did. I would be more eloquent about this if it weren't for Lennier.

A good portion of the Jeremiah fic is gone, I think, stuff I hadn't sent Punk yet. Same goes for the Remix/Redux story which really, really bites because I've already had to recreate a whole chunk of that and I'm not sure I can even remember, now, what was lost. Same goes for a couple of little B5 pieces, an HP drabble, the Atreyu drabble that I'd barely begun. All my screenplays are gone.

This'd be a lot more aggravating if I were more conscious; if I'd slept at all. If it weren't dwarfed by the fact that there's gonna be another money-seeking adventure in the near future so's I can pay my rent.

I want an egg sandwich.