I killed my computer dead. I’ve been having problems with it for awhile; the CPU fans died most horribly, shrieking and groaning for weeks, so the CPU has been running hot for some time. I finally decided to do something about it, and tried to replace the fans, but it seems I shorted out the board or my memory stick (I had to take it out to get at the CPU fan screws), or I jostled the CPU into oblivion, or something similar, but the thing won’t boot. It just lets off a series of shrill beeps and won’t turn off. I can’t do a thing about it.
As a result, I won’t be able to post very often until I get it fixed. No computer at home means no writing. Nothing tragic to you, I suppose, but I’m in the midst of a terrible desperation. It’s horrible.
There are certain projects I’ve been meaning to undertake; I need to respond to my friend Ben’s comments, I’ve wanted to write several email letters for quite some time, and there are a couple of small pieces I need to finish. All will have to wait indefinitely.
I have to do some work while I’m at work now, but I did want to mention that just this morning I’ve begun reading Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part I. I’m quite excited.
NP: Cocteau Twins, Lorelei
