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The Agony of Betrayal

My beloved Macintosh, source of so many joys, sharer of so many sorrows, companion in the best and worst of times, has forsaken me.

I'm getting an error telling me that "keys are out of order," which seems to loosely translate as "you are fucked."

It might mean that I just need to run a disk repair program, and all will be well.

It might mean that my hard drive is dying.

It might mean something entirely different that we can't even begin to imagine at this point in time.

It most definitely means that money must unexpectedly be spent.

What I can guarantee that it does NOT mean is that my life is currently filled with sunshiny goodness.

I can't work on my Spander Inquisition fic, because when I try to save a file, it freezes my computer.

I can't work on the lurvely icons I've been wanting to make as a result of reading the neato ideas presented in _green_'s icon-making tutorial, because when I try to use Photoshop, the tools are actually invisible, so I have to guess where I am whenever I try to use a tool. This makes selecting certain portions of images darn close to impossible, and using the eraser, the burn tool, the brushes, and pretty much everything else ... well ... ludicrous.

I can't do any of the stuff I wanted to do tonight. And I'm ticked. Damn computer. Going and ruining all my fun.

Sigh.

With tomorrow, we shall see the coming of the disk repair software, and we shall see if it smites the wretched plague from my suffering Mac. If it does not, the first thing I shall do is cry.

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