baby MacBook and Heartbreak
Okay all you PC users, trample all over me. But I just shot my wee remote from old baby MacBook from the across the room and…well, I don’t think I need to tell you. Even I was surprised at that range!
Not to mention, baby is hanging on…hanging on. A lot of issues. Battery trashed, yet still fine? Power cord definitely helps for better connection for all things and stabilizing it.
Another problem. My hard drive. It’s about to explode. I’m trying not to do too much as my external back up drive is bitching at me! I have some ideas for all of this, but I’ll let you know if and when I can pull off some “Mac Magic.”
But I bought something today. Well, more than some/thing/s. I can’t say too much as a reader my take a peek and…well…pressies!
Said reader and I are both in a lot of pain. We’re both so upset. Even though we talked on the phone (that may have made it worse.)
C. Ex-friend J.’s sister. She came here to deal with the…how long and an endless ordeal of being the Executrix of their Father’s will has this gone on? Even more ugly as she lives in Paris.
Everything was too overwhelming and took so much time. We kept pushing getting together until the next day and the next. Then it was today. That was a total bust. Still so much to do. She and her husband are flying home tomorrow.
We really are both heartbroken. She sent me an email after we did talk and said that it was still, pain, pain, pain!
Spock took over and responded that this is what we have to do now. Get me to Paris, we must be committed to it. We can’t keep saying, “Oh, sometime. Yes, we’ll do it. We’ll see.” You get the idea.
Then I responded back. I told her I was a mess on the phone. I didn’t know if she noticed, but Aspie issues? Severe? My voice was completely flat. I could barely answer her questions. In fact, I didn’t even want to. But I kept the conversation going. Lots of long pauses too, as I didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t sure, I told her later. An Aspie just hanging on? I’d never been in a situation like that before, but all I really wanted to do was go freak out, have some kind tantrum, crawl into a ball, and just cry for as long it would take until I was done.
Sounds a bit Aspie? Getting pretty damn close to a meltdown? But there’s been a shitload of other PTSD, psych shit too. Still, an Aspie meltdown is an Aspie meltdown.
So, if you read this C., as I joked, “We’ll always have Paris.”