Catastrophe

On Tuesday, disaster struck.

All had been going well - It had stopped raining, I'd finally finished and enveloped the visa forms, we'd had yummy sushi for dinner and I had a glass of wine and an episode of House waiting for me in the living room. All I had to do was walk the 10 steps from kitchen to living room without upset.

I failed.

Any spectator watching my reaction to what happened next would have thought a friend or loved one had just been diagnosed with a life threatening illness, or I'd discovered the sun would explode in a matter of minutes.

Have I added enough suspense in yet?

OK so I dropped my laptop.

I swore rather a lot and fell to my knees - at first with a shocked despondency which quickly gave way to sobbing and more swearing. Jeremy meanwhile attempted to revive my laptop, giving me false hope when it turned on but then crashed (which it continued to do every time I turned it on, which I did about every 5 minutes just in case it had had a change of heart). It was making some weird squeaky scrabbly noises so my final diagnosis was that a mouse had got trapped. Jeremy decided the hard-drive was bust. However, one $60 hard-drive later and it's still not cooperating.

I feel bereft.

I've stopped crying - at about 3pm yesterday I gave myself a very strict talking to which went something like this:

Hannah: (out-loud...I know, doesn't bode well for my sanity but I'm alone most of the day) "Stop being such a wuss and crying. It's only a lap top"

Hannah: (in-my-head...I feel if only one side of the conversation is audible then it's slightly further away from full blown madness. The day I start doing different voices for the different sides is the day I check into a clinic.)

"It's not just a lap top. It's my connection to all my friends and family. It's my sanity"

(considering the talking to myself only happened post lap-top-death, I had a point)

Hannah: (out-loud) "Grow up. If it can't be fixed you can buy a new one. You have a husband who loves you and is trying to fix the thing and there's a computer downstairs you can use."

Hannah: (in-my-head, sulky) "In the dungeon."


Hannah: (out-loud, exasperated) "It's a basement."

Hannah: (in-my-head... turns away in a strop to sulk)

The sensible Hannah won out. She had to really because the other Hannah was being particularly childish and rather annoying and therein lies the way of the abyss.

Meanwhile I'm still without a laptop, which while not a full-blown life-shattering apocalyptic disaster, it's pretty bad. There is a computer downstairs (hence the blogging) but it's about 20 years old and not particularly sprightly and while the basement isn't really a dungeon, it's dark and not really where I want to spend all my unemployed and newly emigrated time.

On the bright side though, I'm rather pleased with myself. OK I did have a minor breakdown where I lost perspective for about 24 hours but I decided against depression and despondency and that's errrrrr good. Because I know very well that depression and despondency are lurking. They sense my vulnerable support-network-3000-miles-away state and they know I can be a total wuss sometimes. I know it too, which is why I've taken to talking to myself.

Jeremy, who of course is far more practical and level headed and I'm sure thinks my attachment to my laptop is a little unhinged, has been wonderful. He appears entirely unphased by my mini-breakdown, accepts my unequivocal need for lap-based-computing and has set about fixing the laptop with determination and zeal.

I think this may be the first bump in the road to life-settlement...I knew there would be the odd bump and bruise, I just wasn't expecting my poor beloved laptop to be at the receiving end. RIP dear friend...unless Jeremy succeeds in Lazarusing you back of course (oh ye of little faith and all that).


(Abbie, I just want you to know that the 'Hannah and her hands' song is entirely inappropriate and unwelcome here. Hannah's hands are most definitely in the dog house. I doubt they'll ever be permitted to lift anything of value ever again.)