Where the Sane Should Fear to Tread

Therapy Sessions on File


10/31/03 at 41046pm
I have a printer at home finally. Price was right and the office bought it, though I'll pay the company back. Yeah!!!

Another nightmare day with the computers, specifically, the printers. The color laser refused to get past "Transfer Kit Error 33". No amount of coaxing and begging worked. The replacement part (of which there is some debate over exactly which part is required) will take two to ten (maybe more) business days. The office cannot be without a printer for two days, never mind ten. Interim solution? Buy a color ink-jet. Use it out front until the laser is repaired, then move it to the lab for the XP machine to use. Certainly solves the problem of trying to get that fucking machine to talk through the network.

Setting up the ink-jet was a nightmare. Surface space is limited, so it's jammed between the fax and the typewriter. Of course, the parallel cable does not reach far enough. Add the old fifty-foot extension we used on the old black-and-white laser. Plug ink-jet and dot-matrix into an old switch box, plug switch box into the computer's parallel port. Turn everybody on. Nobody works. Curse the machinery and kick the desk. Boss says, "why do you need the switch box?". Need it because both printers are required. Plug dot-matrix into computer's port; works fine. Plug ink-jet into computer's port; no data transmission. Curse again, kick desk again. Send boss to store to get USB cable (ink-jet can also use that). Plug ink-jet into computer's USB port, plug dot-matrix into computer's parallel port. Everybody works. Bang head against desk a few times because hardly any real work has been done for three days.

Stupid equipment, stupid mickey-mouse set up we have.

Don't know what exactly is going on with the phones in Vancouver, but they are severely fucked. I did hear a major line was cut in error, but I thought it had been fixed. Someone else said "they can't do customer service, why should anything else work?" Boss-man tried getting hold of our computer supplier (different matter) twice. Each time he dialed TF's number, he was connected to a different number. I tried calling hubby and got a "not able to complete your call" message. With him, I figure the cell is turned off 'cause he's busy at work. Called home where Dad is looking after Squirmy, got the same message. Same again when I tried to call Mom. I could reach Boss-man's wife on the North Shore, who could call the numbers we couldn't, and use her as a relay of sorts. And our office voice-mail? Forget it. System tells us there's messages waiting, but when the access code is entered it's "incorrect" according to the system. The news said someone fired at the Telus building. I can understand why.

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10/30/03 at 329pm
The next person who says I should upgrade my machines to Windows XP will be introduced to my fist! That program is on the top, the absolute top, of my shit-list right now. You hear me Trafalga?? It's never ever gonna happen!

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10/29/03 at 923am
Corrected the date for yesterday's entry (on PE at least, LJ was correct). Apparently I don't know how to read a calendar.

Right after Squirmy fell asleep last night, courtesy of the Tempra and a full tummy, I was going to make dinner and work on some pictures. Hard to do without electricity though. High winds knocked down trees and power lines all over the LM. Rest of the family all had power, just not me. And in an all-electric house, that sucks. Gave myself a pat on the back for cranking the heat forty-five minutes before the power died, else the house would have been bloody cold.

All told, we were in the dark for about two, two-and-a-half hours. Still time enough to eat, but not enough for the computer. Bro-in-law finally got around to giving me the pictures he has of Squirmy so I guess I look at them and print them at work today (oh, the pain!). Hopefully I can get them on his site tonight. There's some odd shots; Bro-in-law has a very unique way of taking pictures.

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10/28/03 at 433pm
It saddens me to see how our older folks are treated in terms of visiting them. Sis and I bundled up our babies and went to see their great-great Aunt. She's ninety-seven and apart from sight and hearing loss she's doing just fine, thank you very much. When we asked about our cousins, her grandsons, Auntie said they don't visit and she never sees them. I felt like crying.

Things were worse when Sis and I left. Passing through the lobby of the building we were accosted by dozens of little old ladies cooing and smiling over Squirmy and Devil-girl. One said she had a great-granddaughter about Devil-girl's age, but her mother never brings her to visit. A couple other ladies nodded sadly in agreement. If I'd been there by myself, I'd still be there just visiting with those women.

Did manage to get some pictures of Squirmy with his great-great Aunt, fussy though the little bugger was. When I was born, I had a great-grandmother and a great-grandfather. The latter died before I was old enough to have a memory of him, and the former I just barely recall. But the few pictures that exist of me in their arms I cherish immensely. One day, maybe Squirmy will appreciate the pics I got today.

Infant Tempra (akin to Infant Tylenol) is the best thing since sliced bread. After hearing of my hellish night, Sis thinks Squirmy is starting to get teeth. It is, according to something she read, "the most painful thing we ever go through." Teeth-cutting could definitely explain the extreme fussiness and the screaming fits as of late. So I gave Squirmy a dose of Tempra and swiped his gums with Baby Oragel and the little dear is out like a light.

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10/27/03 at 809pm
Finally found someone who hates answering machines as much, if not more, than me - my ninety-seven year-old great aunt. Go Auntie!!!

The front yard, and a piece of the back, looks significantly better. I filled eight giant garden bags, so it bloody should. Could have been more if a) I was taller, b) I wasn't a clutz (nearly fell off the ladder a couple times), and c) the old body didn't say "I'm done" at bag eight.

Ever wonder where your brain is, why you didn't think of something sooner? Since working computer time into Squirmy's schedule is near impossible, I haven't been doing a whole lot of writing. It just dawned on me tonight that I can still write (like when Squirmy goes down for a nap or is playing quietly) without the computer. It's called pen and paper. Duh! I think my girlfriend is right - Squirmy sucked all my brain cells dry when I was pregnant. So I captured one of the many plot bunnies and am forcing the little sucker to work. It's a One-by-Two with a nice Relena. There's another plot bunny with a terribly evil, bitchy Relena but I just can't write her like that. Okay, I can, but not right now.

Halloween should be fun in my neighbourhood. Next door, they're going all out this year. Smoke machine, electrical storms, dead bodies, giant spiders... YEEHAW! Put my Halloween decorations up on Sunday and found I really don't need to use my giant spider - the real thing has set up shop on the porch. The body on this spider is huge! It could looks like it could comfortably eat both cats then move on to Squirmy for the main course. I'm not moving it and I'm not telling hubby it's there. Spiders are the one thing that absolutely creep and freak him out. Muhahahahaha!!

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10/25/03 at 1029pm
Just call me Domestic Goddess. Erma Bombeck called this her "Eat Your Heart Out Heloise" syndrome. It's when, amoung other things, your house must sparkle and baking/cooking is an essential. Well, my house is most certainly sparkly (for me) and there's a loaf of raspberry/orange bread cooling while cookies are baking. I really should take my temperature and have myself committed.

Packed up Squirmy and hubby and went to my first-ever dog show today. FUN! When we finally get a dog (once the cats die) it'll be a Burmese Mountain dog. Gentle, intelligent and absolutely gorgeous. Hubby made the rounds of all the breeders and they all had the same thing to say - good with children.

Squirmy had fun (seemed to, at least). When the big Bull Mastiffs trotted around the ring Squirmy hooted and lived up to his name. We tried to get him up close to as many dogs as possible (with owner permission, of course) to see what kind of reaction(s) there'd be. Squirmy was best with the bigger breeds and the Burmese loved the baby. His majesty was also a little flirt with the women. He gave Vicious (we went with her and her hubby) the biggest, coyest smiles I've ever seen. If a four-month old could batt his lashes, he would have.

Timer beeping. Next batch of cookies is done... YUM!

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10/24/03 at 333pm
Got most paperwork done, fired up laptop, read a fic or two then Hell opened up. The NIHB sucks "and not in a positive life-affirming way." (guess who said the quote, and from where, and I'll luv ya for life).

Okay, a combination of D and the NIHB suck. Don't know where D got the code she used. Hopefully fixed now, if they don't lose the claim like they did another one.

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10/23/03 at 318pm
How long can a baby cry/scream for? Forty-five minutes is Squirmy's current record.

According to the Death Test, sent to me by GaribaldisCat (who has way too much time on her hands it seems), my expected date of demise is March twenty-eight, Twenty-thirty-two, at age sixty-five. There's a forty-nine percent chance I'll die of cancer (such a surprise - NOT) and an eight percent chance Alien Abduction will do me in. *snort* Love that the latter one.

Let it be known that I did not read all these fics in one day. It took two days. And I will not be firing up the laptop tomorrow (please, let me be strong and stick to that). If I leave the accumulated paperwork for D she will hunt me down and kill me - slowly and painfully. At least I can open Y!M on the other computer.

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10/20/03 at 1004pm
Oh.My.God. The home office has a floor, a visible one! And the workshop, it has one too, along with a work-table. I'd forgotten what they looked like.

For some reason, known only to powers down below, there were no less than six empty (or partially) boxes in my home office. Just last week I was scrounging for a decent sized box... should have cleaned the office first. Cleaning the office entailed shredding eight years worth of bank statements/bills/receipts. Hubby and I have been married fifteen years, why have I kept everything? Legally, I think it's seven years one should hold onto financial records. So, in addition to the two bags of trash that came out of the office, two bags of recycling also came out. Ugh!

Started putting together a photo album of the cats and a miscellaneous one. Discovered a ton of pictures in the home office, and I think there's more in the bedroom and at least one other place. No point in leaving them to sit, especially when there's nothing written on any. I'm not doing to my kid what my Grandmothers did to their kids. There are still pictures my folks have no idea who the people are in them. A relative? Friend? Pity the dead can't talk. Somedays, it's a pity the living can't kick the shit out of the dead. But, that's a long story.

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10/17/03 at 329pm
Really, I came back to work so I could read again.

The LM is making up for the lack of rain all summer. In one day the Pinapple Express (so called because it's a weather system that moves off the Hawaiian Islands up to the BC Coast) has dumped eight-two millimeters (almost three-and-a-half inches) of rain on us. More heavy rains are predicted through the weekend. Will have to keep a close eye on the garage for flooding. There's a couple low spots we've had problems with in the past. And the roof. Hubby will have to go into the attic again and check that dipwad roofer really did fix the problem.

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10/16/03 at 839pm
This city needs 'pushers' on busses, like they have in Japan. Why do people grow roots when they stand on a bus? Will their life end if they move to the back of the bus? I lost it today, nearly started a fight with some moron. Bus was stopped, dead still. Woman stood in the middle of the aisle, ignoring the driver's plea to "please move back and let people in out of the pouring rain." She, the moron, wouldn't move, so I shoved her, hard, into a pole as I pushed by toward the back (where there was tons of room to stand). Yes, not very mannerly of me but ya know, sometimes you just gotta be rude when politness goes nowhere.

Trying to figure out how the new laptop, which had XP reinstalled, picked up a virus when it hasn't even been used since the reinstall. The network connection was just re-established late this morning and the only thing I'd loaded back in was the AV program. Mail wasn't operational, browser had been opened twice to check the connection (default site of MSN) but somehow this virus got in. How? I hate computers, I really do.

Think the baby monitor problem has been sussed out. Couldn't use the unit because of all the static coming through it. Moved the base unit across the room and that's solved part of the problem. Can't plug the hand unit in at night (static city) but running it off the battery seems okay. This house is fucked up with its wiring. Nothing is where it should be and half a room is one circuit, the other half on a second (some are worse than that). Keeping everything crossed things work again tonight.

Shit, Squirmy's waking up. At least I got to eat dinner in peace.

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10/14/03 at 458pm
I won't have to kill hubby, he's going to either be crushed by all his crap or die searching for things.

For the first time since we moved into the house five years ago, the master bedroom closet is not a minefield. The pathway is clear and items are (for the most part) in their respective areas. Yes! Same goes for the laundry area. The nasty habit of dressing out of the dryer is over (according to me, anyway). Don't mind some things resting on the dryer, put the Everest-sized mounds of clothing are a thing of the past. No need to be like that, except laziness. And the family room is, once again, habitable by families of humans.

The amount of garbage/recycling I've produced in the last four days - just from cleaning out the closet, Squirmy's room, the laundry room and the family room - is staggering. That does not include anything that's hubby's. His 'stuff' has been put in boxes and tossed (literally) into his office area. Hence why he'll be crushed at some point. Don't care, just don't want to see all the 'stuff' laying around anymore.

One more note on hubby... I've just been accused of moving (or hiding or tossing out) the cord to his electric razor. I must have done one of those three things since it was sitting on the bathroom counter before I cleaned up in there, and now it's gone. Stating the cord was not on the counter earned me a look of "yeah, right" and a huff. The cord was on the dining room table under some papers. 'Nuff said.

Back in May, when hubby and I were looking for new bedding, I saw tons of Mickey Mouse sheets, comforters and sets in twin and double size. Think I could find them again? One - ONE! - set in twin size. Went through two malls and a linen specialty store. Nada, zip, zilch. Oh, there's loads of Spider Man, Barbie, Tweety-Bird and Bob the Builder, but no MM. Does nobody love the mouse anymore?

Hunting knives are sharp. So are razor blades. They both will cut you quickly and deeply. Blood is a nice red color. I need to be highly supervised when using anything sharper than a Q-tip. But the pictures I made for Squirmy's room are so worth the sliced up and hurting fingers. Only reason I can type is meds that dull the sting some. Me is stupid.

Squirrels are just rats with fuzzy tails. And one of the little buggers just peed on my porch! Arg!!!!

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10/12/03 at 756am
The POS dresser currently resides in hubby's computer area. And it's full of clothes. Not only was the other chest of drawers too high for his clock, apparently it wasn't good enough for his clothing either. He's being ridiculous!

Hubby wasn't happy yesterday (such a surprise... NOT) because he couldn't spend 'peaceful time' on his computer. He had a couple hours in the morning before I got up and immediately started cleaning up the house. Hubby was in charge of Squirmy while I did the dishes, vacuumed, dusted, cleaned bathrooms, etc. I did get half-an-hour to talk to a girlfriend, but that was pretty much it. With kids you don't get to sit around doing nothing, dearest.

One of the great things about having Squirmy around is I can totally indulge my Mickey Mouse addiction. I've collected all things mouse-related through the years (like from age three) but a lot of it has been put away because forty pictures of Mickey Mouse in an adult's house looks strange. Squirmy's room now looks like the Mickey Mouse club headquarters. Found an old window blind downstairs with a Mickey pattern, a number of my figurines (non-breakable ones) have migrated to Squirmy's room and I found a couple rolls of Mickey wallpaper. There's no way I'm putting up wallpaper but the Mickey's can be cut out and mounted in frames. Since the bed in the room is a double, I'll pick up some Mickey sheets to complete the look. Squirmy will probably hate it all eventually.

Must go find coffee and food...

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10/09/03 at 1158pm
Got home last night to find a new piece of furniture in the bedroom. Not the POS dresser but the nightstand hubby didn't want because it was too low. Why? Because the chest of drawers I took down is too high for him. I felt like beating my head against a wall. On second thought, I should beat hubby's against the cement wall outside.

My two-dollar garage sale baby monitor crapped out. So Squirmy and me took off to the mall last night. Good way to kill a couple hours and add more to my 'when I get some extra cash' list. I did find some dress pants for work. The size required to fit my fat ass is almost double what I was pre-preg *cries*. I want my old body back!

A wonderful advantage to working again is access to a color printer. People ask to see a picture of the baby and I can't show anything because I only took digital pictures. This is the downside to not having a printer at home. *adds printer to wish list again*

Looking more and more like Boss-man is going to start pitching computer equipment out the window. The new lap top won't talk to the printer over the network. It has something to do with XP and there's not a hope in hell I can make sense of what's going on. XP doesn't come with IPX/SPX protocols (which is the alternate way we got the other machines talking to the printer) like all the other incarnations of Windoze has. And the Network driver(s) for the print server thing aren't for XP and the company doesn't produce a driver for XP because this print thing is old and discontinued. Cheap answer to all this is put ME on the lap top. Expensive answer is to buy a new print server. Who knows... and I don't care.

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10/08/03 at 319pm
If I knew where all the bits were for the guns, hubby would be seriously injured, possibly dead.

Spent one of my two days off moving the bedrooms around. Most of the stuff I could, and did, move myself, but the matresses required muscle. That's what handsome neighbour boys are for *grin*. Bedroom downstairs looked great. For the first time in married life, we actually had night tables. Except for the crappy carpet (mustardy yellow... blech!), I finally had a bedroom with visual appeal. Until hubby got home.

Dear hubby was not impressed I'd moved things around, though he didn't say so in words. Okay, I can deal with that, expected it too. But then he makes a bee-line for his dresser and starts moving it. "What are you doing?" "This has to go down too." "Why? There's a night table for your clock." "I don't like that, I want to look up at my clock." I lost it, not totally, but enough. I told hubby the dresser was not going down. It's a piece of crap and I finally have a nice looking bedroom and I don't want that ugly thing in there. Some men have ugly chairs, mine has an ugly dresser.

The furniture in question is as old, if not older, than hubby. It's made of particle board, so it's freakishly heavy, and the sides have separated from the support plank in the center. Because of this, the drawers don't open/close worth a damn. Sis and I have glued and screwed this thing back together twice. And to top it off, in the last two years I've seen hubby go in the drawers two, maybe three times. He has clothes in there I know he hasn't worn in eight years.

After a brief cooling down period (read that as I had a very stiff drink), I compromised. In the huge closet upstairs was a chest of drawers mom and I refinished a number of years ago. It looks nice, the drawers work, and the overall space is more than the POS thing of hubby's. So why not ditch the small night table and use this new chest of drawers. Emptied it out and moved it down. Told hubby, said it was a 'compromise' so he could continue to look up at his clock. And instead of the collection of crap on top, there's two drawers (smaller and shallower than the others) where he can put the crap instead. There was no response, enthusiastic or otherwise.

So after all that, where does the bugger sleep? In the guest room again. Fuck him. I realize work is stressful and the hours brutally long right now, but let's use our fucking head and engage the common sense chip! I don't have the patience or tollerance for his crap attitude. It is not practical to put Squirmy downstairs - maybe in six to ten years, but not now. I'm tired of waiting to set up Squirmy's room. I thought we could wait for a few more months but it's just too damn crowded with baby stuff and my stuff in the same space (nevermind the change table in the dining room). It is not practical to have some of my stuff upstairs AND downstairs, it's not convienient to have Squirmy's stuff strewn through three rooms. I'd really like to let loose and tell hubby to get a fucking brain and think with it, you moron! Today is not the only time that needs to be considered. I'm tired of waiting for the last damn minute to do things, I'm tired of running all over the house looking for things, I'm sick of boxes and things piled up in my bedroom. I'm sorry you feel so put out, but this had to be done - and you weren't asked to lift on damn piece of furniture so you can't be pissed about doing physical labor on your time away from work. So deal with the change or not, your choice!

*sighs* That feels better. I'll have to deal with grumpy hubby tonight but not for long. Thank god he's going to bed early.

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10/06/03 at 543pm
Changes are coming, whether hubby likes them or not! Our bedroom is moving downstairs, Squirmy's upstairs. Reasons: 1) no need to redo the flooring if hubby and I take that room; 2) easier to get at baby if he's upstairs; 3) change table can come out of the dining room; 4) don't have to worry about Squirmy getting to the hot water heater, washer, dryer or electrical box; 5) only one baby gate needed at top of the stairs instead of bottom, room door and bathroom; 6) I don't care if there's a portable dishwasher in my bedroom; 7) don't have to switch all the furniture around - only our bed has to move down.

Mentioned these reasons to hubby and he responded by saying we won't have to worry about most of that (gates and access) for a while yet. He'd rather have Squirmy's room in what's now the guest bedroom and move the guest bedroom to Squirmy's room. Right, put the kid not only downstairs but at the other end of the house. Not gonna happen, bub. Besides, he's forgetting the sitter aspect - it's more convienient and logical to put the kid upstairs where a sitter (my Dad) can get to him easily. Especially when said sitter has knee issues which make going down stairs a challenge without holding a squirming baby. Are all men this... wacked out, or is it just mine?

Harlequin books are now being made into TV movies? Flipping around the dial yesterday, I stumbled onto a movie called Diamond Girl. Not a bad movie, bet the book is better though. But, watching the movie has whet my appetite for het stories (smut or otherwise) again. Should find out if my old romance novels are here or still at Vicious' place.

Oh, and for those who may wonder at the power of prune juice... it works. Really really well. Yuck!

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10/05/03 at 750pm
The things one finds when cleaning out directories on the 'puter...

A couple years ago, there was a fad for guys of sticking a vacuum pump on their cock and creating a very large, meaty looking appendage. Don't know if this fad was for gay or straight men. So what's it all look like? Glad you asked...

Monster Cock   Attached to equipment   Locked up   Beefy

It's not that wild a guess to assume that if you do that enough times damage will occur. So what's the point? Can you do anything with a cock when it's that big? I don't even want to touch one like that, never mind perform some sexual act with it. *sigh* There's a fetish for everyone.

Stop means just that - stop, halt, do not move. Around here, it means don't stop moving, but slow down a bit. No wonder insurance rates are going up every year! I hate driving, I really do.

Squirmy needs to tell mom a poo-story. We haven't had a good one for over a week. I don't care what the so-called experts say, Iron fortifies formula does affect a baby's bowel movements. The doctor at the walk-in clinic agrees. Apple/Prune juice has been introduced into Squirmy's feedings. Stuff tastes horrible but he loves it. Probably the apple juice; I hate the stuff.

Should go get some dinner. Something other than cookies and tea.

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10/03/03 at 921pm
Anyone who works with computer networks is someone I worship. Spent a good couple hours trying to get the 'puters to talk to the printer. For some reason the connection is not TCP/IP but IPX/SPX. Best of all, I have very little idea what those actually mean, the IPX part most of all. One of my buddies is amazed I've been able to do as much as I've done without any training. Really should take a network course someday. Maybe Squirmy will, then he can teach mom.

Going to be hard clearing the desk by Friday afternoon. I'm used to leaving things over until Monday, but I'm not in Mondays and D has a clean desk fetish. Damn, she's got things so organized. It's... disgusting. But, really, it makes sense and should have been done ages ago.

One other nice thing about being back at work. When I have a few minutes (which does happen) I can read fics!!

Hubby is close to taking his job and shoving it. He, and all the other supes, have been working thirteen hour days all week and weekends. One of the girls in Vancouver had a mini breakdown, one in Richmond (a staunch anti-union fellow) wants all lower management unionized. If the company isn't careful, they're gonna lose all the supes.

Why is it movie thugs have really bad fashion taste? Watching Time Cop last night and I noticed the thugs were dressed like they closed their eyes and grabbed random clothing. One had on a pair of high boots (came to just below the knee), pants tucked into the boots, mid-thigh jacket partly open and tied at the waist. He looked like a Kosack (sp) with a mental problem.

And it's not just this movie. The 'bad' guys all look decent, some of them being very well dressed and groomed. But the thugs they have working for them look horrible. Now, I've known people who are classified as thugs. They manage to dress well so why can't movie thugs?

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10/02/03 at 1038am
Work Rocks!! Dear god, it is sooooo good to use my brain again, feel like I have a purpose! I do not have the personality type, mindset, whatever to be a stay at home mom. I admire those, like my sister, who can do that.

For the most part, the office ran fine while I was gone. A couple little things - mainly to do with the accounting system - but not unexpected. Easy to fix.

Biggest change is the computers. The little laptop I used committed suicide. Gave boss-man an excuse to get a new laptop for himself thus shunting his old one to me. Good deal. And the one we use for e-mail, FTP and web hosting got an upgrade of all new guts. The important stuff - FTP and hosting - only took a minute or two to get running again. Mail is another story since a new program is needed. At least they're fairly cheap.

Right, got paper piled up (thank you D for leaving it for me *snerk*) so what am I doing on the 'puter...

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