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.