Bitter line, confusing thing, nasty
computers not playing
fair. There is the scent of
trouble on the air, and it stinks like long dead
rose petals. My ears prick up,
curious. I take my hands away from the back of the
computer with which I was struggling, and consider for a moment.
Trouble?
Where?
Why? There is the stink of
trouble, to be sure, and just when I am prepared to shrug it off as one of my little
neuroses, my
name is called, and it echoes all over
creation.
Trouble?
Where?
Why?
And I
dash towards the caller, and ask of the
problem. But there is the scent of
ozone on the
air, and I know what happened. Someone (despite emphatic
warning) had neglected (though they were
admonished) to flip the switch upon the back of her
computer from a
voltage numbering 115 back to 220 (
tragedy). Ah, me, Ah, my. To where has the scent of
thyme gone? Sigh.
And now there is no longer the scent of
trouble (oh, would that it were back!), but now all that remains is the taste of
despair.
We will see in days to be if the
damage can be undone. Has merely a
fuse blown (as is most likely)? Was the
power source simply
fried (the second nicest thing)? Or has the entire
motherboard (with
hard disk,
modem, components, and all) met its end (tear)?
I wonder if she has
backups. . .No, I suspect the answer is, "Certainly not. After all, I never
imagined, bless my
soul, that this sort of thing would happen to me!" Sigh.