Nasty technology

We hates it, precious. Or rather, it hates me.

Sometime this afternoon, my PC ate my latest file of Dreams. Ate it up, num. Admittedly, I was stupid to leave the file open, but I thought, I have saved, surely all is well. Hah. We had a power outage at the house, and when I came home, no file. No recovered files, no temps, no nothing. I did manage to retype everything I lost, I think, but this still pisses me off. I saved the bloody file.

So I open up the last draft I had on the laptop, retype the missing bits, add in a few hundred words I wrote at work today. Tra la la. Respecting the lesson of the power outage, I immediately try to upload a backup. File contains no data. Due to some computer wackiness beyond the comprehension of my simple cave-girl mind, I cannot upload from the laptop. Steven is working on this problem now. I shall be cross if I have to retype everything onto the PC tomorrow.

To sum up, I have few words today, and am cross.

I also, as I wrestled with drafts and files, watched The Butterfly Effect. It was not bad. Ashton Kutcher's hideous facial hair did try to destroy the world in a paradox backlash of cataclysmic proportions, though. I still am not sold on revisionist endings, however, and Donnie Darko was way better.

I did swim about two laps before the flotilla of hair shoggoths in my pool drove me screamingly away. (Not my hair, mind you.) Excercise waits on a clean pool.

Now to bed. Perhaps I shall awaken in an alternate reality where computers like me and people don't shed in the pool.