Tuesday, February 16, 2010

I’Ma Cut Chew

I’m at the point now where I’m ready to rip someone’s innards out, through their nose, and slam their then-deflated carcass against the wall a few thousand times as a stress release.

No lie, it has taken my expletive deleted computer 23 minutes (TWENTY! THREE! MINUTES!) to open a word document, the internet, and an excel spreadsheet.


And, since I’ve returned to MO from my most awesome vacation, the friggin’ thing has got something running in the background. All. The. Time.

I’ve scanned it and debugged it and cleaned it up nicely … all to no avail. And I totally hate that I’m thinking, “Hmm, it was running FINE before I left for vacation.” How can a desktop be JEALOUS of my vacation?!?

I’m so frustrated that I had to lock all the critters out of the office because I am in NO mood for cute right now. Not having none of it, I tell you.

I haven’t tweeted in ages, and have only facebook’d from work in quick drive-by’s to respond to e-mails; been using my spare work laptop at home, but it won’t work on my cable connection … so, unless I steal wifi from a neighbor (and all the security risks that entails) my option is dial-up. Or, as I like to call it: not gonna freakin’ happen. You know, cuz it takes sooooo looooooooooong.

So, needless to say, I don’t dial-up. And because the wifi is unsecure (seeing as I can get on it … der) I’m not all that computer active these days. Sigh. I miss my internet.

Good thing the Winter Olympics came along, or I’d be out-of-my-MIND bored. I wonder why I enjoy the curling so much during the Olympics, when I couldn’t care less the rest of the year? And I totally love the snowboarding.

I have a pet peeve, though … all these swipes and schnozzles complaining that fans of the Winter Olympics aren’t proper fans at all. Who the hell are you to tell anyone whether they’re “doing it right”? Huh? You watch the way you want to, and so will everyone else, thank-you-very-much.

Fair weather fan, my ass.

Of course, this could be (more) misplaced computer-rage. Maybe.

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