How did they do this before?

This is horribly pathetic, I know, but not having my laptop feels so lonely! I'm suffering from phantom limb syndrome, I think. My laptop and I used to have such a great relationship... full of laughter, good times, and web browsing. Then things soured, the hard drive crashed and corrupted a bunch of my files, and I find myself in the computer lab at school trying to recover from the heart break.

Laptop will be back... it should be back in my arms in a few days, but I think the hurt and damaged trust from this experience might last a lifetime. I don't need to give you all the petty details of the three grueling hours I spent in the apple store last night, but I will say that the nice people working at the genius bar certainly made up for the horrible situation.

The upside to this whole situation is that it led to my discovery a mac computer lab in one of the lower levels of my school's library. It houses an ENTIRE room full of those HUGE screened Mac desktops. How cool is that? It even has one of those nifty slender keyboards. I'm actually really enjoying making use of it right now.

 I also wrote an entire essay by hand when I got home last night (it was due today and I had no other way to write it) and I think it really built some character. It threw me back to the days where computers weren't so terribly common and handwriting essays was something I did all the time. It did give me a chuckle... how dependent I had become!

After the harrowing experience with my laptop, by the time I got home and finished writing that essay I was ready for a good sleep. Unfortunately, my roommate is so remarkably unintelligent that he managed to set off the fire alarm AGAIN. In less than a week. So impressive, so irritating, and I really shouldn't be so surprised. Instead of a little bit after three a.m. like last time, this incident occurred at 2:51 in the morning. I'm not sure which point he walked away from the burning hot dogs, but that's about the exact moment I woke up choking on hot dog stench and failure. The blaring fire alarm didn't help matters either. I'm sensing a pattern, and the rest of the neighborhood probably is too.

Shout out to anyone in my classes: if I smell like hot dogs today, feel free to go blame my roommate. In person. Preferably with some kind of blunt object.