Computer Crash

Well, if this doesn't solidify my decision to get a Mac, nothing will. My desktop just crashed. I have the dreaded "NTLDR is missing" message, which means the loading program can't be found. Unknown yet whether I'll lose data. A computer technician is swinging by later this afternoon to pick up the system and take it into the shop for diagnostic's.  Sh** pretty much describes my mood at the moment.

Still, it's a slow week and I'm not on deadline so it could be much, much worse. Most everything that has to be turned in has been, and work in progress or that's been completed as been e-mailed to people, so there should be recovery available there as well.  I know Blair used to back up the system weekly. Whether he's been faithful to this, I don't know. He's in meetings all day and unreachable.

Deep, calming breath. Yes...just breath. It will all work out. Again--I'm really fortunate with the timing on this that I wasn't in the midst of some big project. It will get fixed, and life will go on. There are millions of people in the world who wish their biggest problem in life was that their computer crashed. I'm one of the lucky ones.

There. I actually feel much better. I'll keep you posted on the progress via my laptop. =)

Furr-bulous On Elm

Sunday's paper had a write-up on a new pet boutique that just opened in Greensboro. I popped by yesterday to check it out. It's Furr-bulous at 354 N. Elm Street and it's adorable. I stopped in to check out the place as well as introduce myself and drop off my kitty-cat books to see if they're interested in carrying them. But while there I had to snag a "Cat Lover" mug that I suspect will soon be the only mug I drink from.

Great dog stuff there. They have a gourmet pet food case with doggie birthday cakes shaped like a bone. Also bibs that read, "I'm not fat. Just Fluffy. " (I'd buy one if I thought there was any chance of getting the cats to wear it.)

Today is "workshop prep day." Lots of handouts and organizing and flipping through the millions of magazines I've collected to find relevant examples of points I'm trying to make.  The guest bedroom where I've laid everything out may never recover. Even my nosy cats appear hesitant to intrude upon the chaos.

The paperwork awaits. Have a great day.

Loooo-ser

Do you ever have days where you just feel stupid? Not ignorant stupid, but just loser-stupid. Like you just clued in that the rest of world thinks you're a joke and is secretly mocking you behind your back? I'm having one of those days.

I don't know why. Nothing's happened. I'm having a good morning. I look cute, had a good networking meeting this a.m., no real stress in my day. But I just feel... loser-like. As if I've been faking my way through life and oops, today is the day it all caught up with me.  Busted.

I'd like to say it's artist angst but I suspect most of us have days like this, where we just want to crawl under a blanket and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist.  I did some quick journaling and already feel better. Sometimes just putting words down on a page is enough to release the emotion from your system.

I debated whether or not to even blog on this topic but, eh. We've all been there. It will pass. No harm in admitting it.

Meanwhile, I've had an idea brewing in my mind for several weeks about an article I want to write for a runner's magazine. I've got 2 hours to kill until my next meeting and am going to indulge in some good old-fashioned writing time.

High-five's to all you losers roaming around out there today. ;)

Dena

Pat Schneider's Workshop Comes To An End

My class has ended. I'm sitting in a Panera's typing this, an infallible signal I've returned to the real world.

Although it's just early afternoon, I feel drained. I want to go home and sleep for three hours. The last assignment we had in class was a challenging one for me and I feel a bit raw. One woman in class that I walked out with was getting in her car for a 2 1/2 hour drive home and I envied her. Two hours alone in a car to decompress with the radio to drown out thoughts sounds just about right. Instead, I've commandeered a square table and spread out the pages of research I'll need to write my article. I need to have a working draft complete by 5PM and I'll have to block out all distractions and focus to get it done.

I'm sipping a caffeine-free Diet Pepsi that I didn't really want but felt obligated to purchase, given my plans to hog a table for the next 3 hours.  The manager who I know from his days of managing the branch on Lawndale in Greensboro, is having a sit down talk with a young female employee who from her crossed arms, wide eyes, and leg tapping, is obviously upset and defensive. I'm not close enough to hear the specifics of the altercation that's led her to be called to task, although I did hear her start her end of the conversation with a benign, "I don't know why you all lie so much."

No more putting it off. Mutant genes and epileptic dogs and genetic research call to me to put their story in some semblance of order.  Banzai!