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::bangs head on desk::
My computer blew up. Literally. Okay, it didn't exactly blow up into pieces, but it was snapping/popping and smoking yesterday evening when I tried to turn it on. After ten minutes of nervous pacing, I decided to open the damn thing up to see if there were scorch marks along the circuitry. Thankfully, everything looked in order. From the location of the smoke (and smell) I deduced that the problem was the power supply. I called several computer repair places, but no one was in. I finally called a small operation run out of a gentleman's home. He answered the phone and confirmed my suspicions about the power supply. Thankfully, his hourly rates were extremely low ($35/hr!) and he said he may be able to obtain a used power supply for $25. I've got my fingers crossed that the blown-up power supply is the only problem. I don't have all of my files backed up, and I might cry if I lose them all or have to buy a new computer when I wasn't really planning on it. I was in the midst of preparing myself for a Mac, but I'm just not ready to make the leap yet.
So, I packed Ferguson, my lunch, and the computer up in the car this morning at 8:30 so I could drop the computer off to be repaired at 9:00. Ferguson promptly threw up in his bed on my passenger seat on the way there. I managed to clean it up with napkins from the glove box. I dropped the computer off, paid the diagnosis fee, and drove to work. Halfway there, Ferguson threw up a second time. I cleaned it up again. We got to work. He threw up on the sidewalk. I took his bed into the bathroom to clean it. He threw up on the tile. Argg. There's nothing wrong with him. He isn't sick; he just gets like this when something out of the ordinary happens. Typical, nervous chihuahua. I do plan on asking the vet when we go next Saturday if there is anything I can do to prevent the barfing when my routine changes. It's rather tedious, especially if we're in the car.
Work is work. I'm annoyed with almost everyone. The receptionist is back to school this week, and we don't have anyone to answer the phones until 2pm. It sucks. The accountant has a stick up his ass. Janitorial services are still haunting me with questions and quotes. The estimator is crying about checks and bid forms that need to be filled out. I have a pile of invoices from Friday since the receptionist didn't deem it necessary to get the mail until 4:45pm. And I don't feel like doing one bit of work. Instead, I'm updating my LJ and checking my e-mail since I don't know when I'll have my computer back. Dammit.
My computer blew up. Literally. Okay, it didn't exactly blow up into pieces, but it was snapping/popping and smoking yesterday evening when I tried to turn it on. After ten minutes of nervous pacing, I decided to open the damn thing up to see if there were scorch marks along the circuitry. Thankfully, everything looked in order. From the location of the smoke (and smell) I deduced that the problem was the power supply. I called several computer repair places, but no one was in. I finally called a small operation run out of a gentleman's home. He answered the phone and confirmed my suspicions about the power supply. Thankfully, his hourly rates were extremely low ($35/hr!) and he said he may be able to obtain a used power supply for $25. I've got my fingers crossed that the blown-up power supply is the only problem. I don't have all of my files backed up, and I might cry if I lose them all or have to buy a new computer when I wasn't really planning on it. I was in the midst of preparing myself for a Mac, but I'm just not ready to make the leap yet.
So, I packed Ferguson, my lunch, and the computer up in the car this morning at 8:30 so I could drop the computer off to be repaired at 9:00. Ferguson promptly threw up in his bed on my passenger seat on the way there. I managed to clean it up with napkins from the glove box. I dropped the computer off, paid the diagnosis fee, and drove to work. Halfway there, Ferguson threw up a second time. I cleaned it up again. We got to work. He threw up on the sidewalk. I took his bed into the bathroom to clean it. He threw up on the tile. Argg. There's nothing wrong with him. He isn't sick; he just gets like this when something out of the ordinary happens. Typical, nervous chihuahua. I do plan on asking the vet when we go next Saturday if there is anything I can do to prevent the barfing when my routine changes. It's rather tedious, especially if we're in the car.
Work is work. I'm annoyed with almost everyone. The receptionist is back to school this week, and we don't have anyone to answer the phones until 2pm. It sucks. The accountant has a stick up his ass. Janitorial services are still haunting me with questions and quotes. The estimator is crying about checks and bid forms that need to be filled out. I have a pile of invoices from Friday since the receptionist didn't deem it necessary to get the mail until 4:45pm. And I don't feel like doing one bit of work. Instead, I'm updating my LJ and checking my e-mail since I don't know when I'll have my computer back. Dammit.
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