The Thessaliad Redux

Argh. Argh. Argh.

So I plug everything in. I mean, seriously, the whole thing looks like a cross between something Lain might come up with on a bad day and some Lovecraftian horror. Still, it looks like everything's connected the way it should be, so I plug everything in and presto! Fans start going, things light up and go beep, the usual...

And then it tells me that the CPU fan is not functioning. Okay, fine. Except if the CPU fan isn't functioning, what's that thing sitting on the mobo going round and round and round making "whrrrrrrr" noises? What the bloody blue fuck is going on? All I know is that it stays switched on for about five seconds -- long enough for the screen to flash its lying, idiotic message about the fan not working when I can patently see that the fan is working -- and then switches itself off again. I don't know what I did wrong, I have no damn clue how to fix it, and all I know at the minute is that I am a total fucking spaz. "Geek-girl"? "Multimedia freak of nature"? Ha! Ha, I say!

So I am at a cybercaff. Again. At least the keyboard at this one is okay, and the prices are ... well, reasonable to a point, but I shouldn't have to do this! There is a functioning computer at home, thank you so very much. I just couldn't really be having with the whole deal of digging the wireless network card out of the Frankenbox and putting it back in Lenore, then doing the whole lead-plugging-in thing and starting the whole damn mess up again. So instead I go to this bloody cybercaff, where I will spend the next little while catching up on friends' lives (where's my last kuo_li installment, nadriel?) and doing my first alison_1669 entry in ages and ages and ages.

Arrrrgh.

I'd love to tell you how my interview went. Really. Except I can't, because it didn't happen. I got a phone call this morning from the nice lady at the interview agency telling me that she had a meeting scheduled during my interview time that she had forgotten about entirely (I can't believe anyone's that excited about getting me on the books at their particular agency, but there you go). She didn't want to keep me hanging around needlessly so we arranged to postpone it until Monday. Which just goes to prove yet again how invaluable secretaries are, and how few people on this flying mudball we call a planet could even tie their own damn shoes without one. I was so keyed up for this interview -- I put on makeup and everything! There were even shoes without at least a half-pound of steel in them! (Okay, fine, I'm still not entirely convinced that they're not slippers, but they're black and tasteful and that's what counts, right?) Bah, phooey. Oh well -- they'll still be there Monday and so will I.

I miss the Frankenbox. Okay, mainly I miss my music collection, still locked on the malfunctioning hard drive, but it's all the same thing. Also getting sick of cybercafes already, though it's only been a few days. And bizarrely, I miss Sims 2 on occasion -- it's so good for when I get really, beyond comprehension bored. Currently I'm making do with Buffy DVDs. It's also helpful in that, however messed up my life may seem, it will never, ever be quite as fucked up as that of Ms "Chosen One" Summers.

And they've delayed Ghouls: Fatal Addiction by another 4-6 weeks. Bloody Amazon. I think I might be getting The Book of Madness sooner, as they've divided up my order and haven't changed the dispatch date on that one yet, but the e-mail does say "Usually dispatched in 4-6 weeks (but may not be available at all)" so I can't be sure. I live in eternal hope that the stupid wankers would tell me what they're telling me about the Ghouls book if there really was a problem with the other one. I wish to find and kick the stupid sons of bitches.

Beyond that, my head-state varies. Currently I'm getting irritation as primary overriding factor, but this may change. Bleh.