Protons and Neutrons Hate Me

This is me losing my mind. See me? Sitting here, in an empty office, hungry but unable to eat, with only half-applied makeup on and a bra that totally does not match this outfit? My mind is blown, my darlings, and it is because of my living environment.

I keep crashing hard drives. This is the second one in a week. Is there static in my room that has decided to wage war on my computer equipment? Perhaps it has set up some sort of kamikaze run once a day, and editing/bill-paying be damned, I am powerless against it.

I am getting to know the data recovery man very well (much like my tow truck driver, Frank). The data-recovery specialist's name is Tony, he drives a red Scion and likes it except for the cupholders, and has a nice girlfriend who lives in the valley. She is nice, except for several obsessive-compulsive behaviors about dishwashing and dog hair.

THIS IS MORE THAN I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT TONY.

I don't understand why I am being karmically punished. Was it because of the homeless guy I accidentally laughed at last week when he begged me to share my Baja Fresh? Or perhaps the blind child I stood in front of silently while she called out "Who's there? Who's there?"

Nah. It must be my power strip.

Anyway, I cancelled all my social events this week except for ONE in order to recover the data from the last hard drive that died. I was editing, capturing, watching Veronica Mars, and praying. My prayers went unanswered. I spent 9 hours total recapturing work that I just lost for the second time. I believe this is the exact situation "Wtf?!" was created for.

So, if you never see me again, my darlings, it is because I am caught within my own personal purgatory, capturing, losing, and re-capturing data for the rest of time. No more movies, oral, or trips to Disneyland. Nope, just me, sitting alone, brow furrowed and sexily lit by the blue light of my soon-to-fail external drive.

It's been nice knowing you. g