That screeching, ear-splitting, heartrending wail heard across the inter-webs was me crying over my dead laptop.
In addiction terminology, I’m what you would consider a super heavy user.
My husbands first words: “Have you backed up? What about your story?” (I love him, by the way)
Me: *sniff* Last Saturday. I’ve only lost about twelve to fifteen pages from this week.
Hubby: Well now this just makes this whole bad week go away.
Me: *incoherent bawling*
Already I miss the good times we had together. How everything was set up just right for me and all my little programs were installed on it. I knew it wasn’t feeling well, but I never thought it would end so soon. Just this morning, I’d typed a steamy make-out scene on it.
I blame that darn Window that popped up saying that updates had been installed and did I want to restart my computer now or later? I hit “Now” and went to workout and that was the last I’d see of it.