It was less than a whole day ago I sat in this same spot with my journal open atop a big fluffy pillow, pen in hand, scribbling out impassioned realizations and epiphanies because I hadn't journalled in 10 days. And it is in this spot I have cried--about broken coffee cups, broken relationships, even broken plans. I have laughed at my dog and with my husband (or with my dog and at my husband). I have pondered here and screamed in rage here and dreamt of things beyond reality. I have prayed here, with more fervor and angst than many prayers made in my dubious teenaged years.
Tonight I sit here typing on my computer, my regular old computer, which is not plugged in and does not have an ethernet cable tethering it to any sockets. I'm sitting at the computer. On the internet. In bed.
Behold, I can even take a webcam photo of myself and the awesome tapestry above my bed and I can just BAM put it on the Internet. I will pretend that doesn't sound awkward and just keep writing.
This is insignificant, on the whole, except that my compy spent the last 4 days at "the doctor." He (his name is Cornelius, fyi) got sick and wouldn't wake up starting on Sunday. So I took him to the IT department at TIU. After 24 hours of grueling tests (picture x-rays, MRIs, and blood analysis except for a computer) it was determined there was a fatal flaw in the hard drive. Everything was still there, all the data intact, but it couldn't be accessed. (Like a person in a coma!) The only way to possibly fix the problem (before buying a new compy or getting a new hard drive, two things which I don't have medical metaphors for because people aren't replaceable and neither are their brains) was to reformat the beast and re-install everything (another thing for which I have no people/medical metaphors)
So I went back to IT today and picked up Cornelius. We don't know how long he has to live. Maybe two weeks, maybe two years. The hard drive has some serious problems but at least now I have time to look for a new machine. (Kind of like those crazy dying women on hospital dramas who search for new wives for the husbands they'll leave behind.) Anyways. I am extremely grateful to have my compy back, and to have all of my data.
The other reason it's significant that I'm in bed (ha... ha... ) is because for a WHOLE YEAR Cornelius has been unable to access any sort of wifi. We had to plug him in with an ethernet cable. The only solution, which was also given to me by the awesome IT guy at TIU, was to reformat the hard drive and re-install everything. Well... we just did that. So now I have wifi. And I am taking advantage of it by sitting in bed using the internet to blog.
In other news, I am going home in 11 days. We have someone to take us to/from the aiport, someone to watch the dog (granted, we're talking about the same person for all these situations), I have created all the Christmas cards and soon will have created 80% of the presents (some have to be baked next week. Woohoo!) and after that comes packing. Yay. Packing.
The feelings I experience when I speak aloud: "Eleven days." Well, if I as a less exciting person, I would say excitement. But when teaching 6th graders I often said exciting was a boring word, because it is. Like happy/sad, good/bad, it does not belong in my excessive lexicon. I am thrilled. I am exuberant. When I think about how soon we're leaving, a strange and wonderful energy fills my body and I stop breathing and then Joey takes me to the hospital and all the nurses look at me like I'm nuts because...
Yep. Just kidding. But I do get sort of breathless if I think about it too long. Maybe that's because I have to get on a plane for the first time since 2011 and security check-ins during Christmas time are INSANE.
Needless to say, it's been a busy week, and this blog post is way longer than I was anticipating. I will now attempt to sleep.