Again, sorry for the slow blogging — but I’m still being plagued by computer issues. So I sucked it up and ordered a new iBook yesterday — I don’t know what it is about Macs. I love them, I’ve been a Mac person for twenty years, but it seems like there’s a little clock that goes off inside after two years and two months, and while it’s not like the whole machine breaks down, it just slowly starts to do wonky things which necessitate hours of pointless fucking around and occasional head banging in despair. All this computer craziness has thrown off my whole carefully calibrated schedule of morning surfing, followed by a shower, followed by a dive into the memoir in an attempt to eke out another page or two, before I have to sign in and spend the rest of the day chained to my desk by the Big Corporation. For the last couple of weeks all my morning time, which is supposed to be quiet, and peaceful, and conducive to writing this Very Sad Book I think I need to write, has been taken up by wandering from room to room trying to get an internet connection, opening Utilities I didn’t even know I had and pinging IP addresses and reconfiguring things and then giving up in despair and going uptown to the local coffee shop where there’s a wiFi connection but where I have to dodge people like my former cleaning lady, who is crazy, and way too cheerful, and who used to re-arrange my things into psychotic little dioramas and who wrote letters to the editor of the local paper all through the last election saying how those of us who opposed the war should be taken into the town square and shot. Sigh.
So, of course, now that I took the credit card out of its hiding place and set back my Plan to Get Out of Debt by several months, my computer is working beautifully this morning. It’s working beautifully from a room where I haven’t had internet connectivity in weeks. I think this means it’s possessed, which is why it must go ….