My computer is a dinosaur. Computer years are like dog years times 3 so that would make my computer 105. So we wined and dined (with pizza and beer and bourbon) and lured Tara's husband Dusty, the computer genius, over here to asses the situation and see what, if anything, could be done.
Apparently, the situation was more serious than we originally thought. The surgery went on for hours. I sat on the couch consuming Negro Modelo after Negro Modelo just sick with worry and anxiety while Dr. Dusty calmly pressed buttons and booted and worked his voodoo magic. I was an absolute mess and sadly, the problem proved so serious that he took the brain home with him.
I miss my computer--even if it is sick, old and never works very well even when it does work.
This laptop is too hard, too new and therefore too technologically advanced for me.
Please pray for my computer's speedy recovery.