:: whine ::
My laptop is dying. Actually, I think the fan that cools the thing has stopped working, which means that I'm trying to limp along, running it for thirty minutes at a time (so it doesn't overheat) while I desperately burn essential files to CD, until I feel comfortable handing the baby over to someone to see if it can be salvaged.
It also means that I've suffered the cruel fate of being forced back downstairs to the dank, chilly basement den to work on my WIP. And this is my vacation, darn it! I was supposed to be able to lounge on my sofa, typing away on my trusty laptop all week. Not sit here in this uncomfortable desk chair, wearing a sweater in the middle of the freakin' summer, trying to carve a hole in the middle of my WIP because I realized I had enough stuff happening in the first day of my manuscript's timeline to fill a season of 24.
:: /whine ::