Monday, April 23, 2007

Just another manic, 'expletive, expletive' Monday

It's never a good sign when you wake up Monday morning, call your friend at work and announce that you want to off yourself. Such was my morning. Last night, after working for nine hours on nine articles that are (were) due today for the News-Miner, Microsoft Word crashed. Normally, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal because my stories were saved, and closed, and nestled safely in the documents folder. Or so I thought. But, as it turns out, the unthinkable happened. Word hiccupped in such a way that is so rare; no one I've talked to thought that could actually happen. My stories were gone. Without so much as a trace. Well, actually, there was a trace but it was gobbledygook. A whole day wasted and a missed deadline to boot. I really didn't know I could curse that much. I’m being punished for something, but what? Next time I see Bill Gates or that billionaire jerk that just went into space on a joy ride, remind to punch them both in the face. So, here I sit at the News-Miner re-writing nine, count 'em, nine f**king stories. Some of my notes also disappeared but I do have some scribbles in my notebook. Motherf**ker!

Ok, sorry Gran.

I brought my laptop into the IT guy here at work. He looked at it and dinked around for a long time before explaining to me what had happened, and exactly just how rare it is that not even auto-recovery can auto-recover it. (He eventually had to tell me to shut up and get out of his office because I was pacing and fidgeting and asking him ridiculous questions...nice guy that Brian.) Well, he tried and was very sympathetic. It's so much damn work and all for nothing! Anyway, I have a buttload to do and less than one day to do it, so I better stop my whining. Once more, please? Son of bitch, c***##!!!@***!

Better, much better. It's just too bad because this mini-crisis has trumped the great evening Sam and I had last night. We got some take-out Thai and drove out of town to a little-known bluff down a windy, dirt road. We sat in the setting sun, drinking beer, eating Thai and enjoying the view of the Alaska Range and the Tanana River. It was perfect. But none of that matters now because ‘Jillian lost nine articles’ is the story of the day. At least in my little f***ing world.

Peace.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

At the end of the day, all that matters is the lovely setting sun and who you shared it with. xo

Jeremy said...

so.. backing up your work... do you want me to teach you about it or just give you the drive to do it with?

akbushbaby said...

Back up my work? I don't do that. Manual? I got rid of it in a fung sheu attack! (That's from sex and the city when Carrie's computer crashed and she lost all her work. The guy at the computer place asked her if she backed up her work.)
Jeremy! How the hell are you?? Libby told me I should've called you, but I remember you saying how much you hate it when people call you just to ask you computer questions, so I didn't. We need to go for chai and ketchup pronto!

Anonymous said...

An apple a day keeps Bill Gates away

whitehornet said...

Can't remember ever having one that bad--nine stories. Best I can think of is the night six years ago when my final paper was due. This guy, the prof, a total hard case. I came back from the library with this monster paper 3/4 of the way done. The door to my apt. was cracked; my phone was ringing. The police: apparently someone had broken into my place, taken my car keys and stolen the car in order to run around and make drug deals. I spent a few hours with a very suspicious captain and wound up getting my car (minus a flat tire) home in time to take a three hour nap before unsuccessfully explaining to Prof. Hard Case the next morning why my paper wasn't done.