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23:30 hours into experiment: Subject began frothing at the mouth and complaining that she saw babies crawling on the ceiling when she tried to sleep. Suggested Subject go watch Poker After Dark to address insomnia, but Subject instead used seemingly superhuman strength to move bed aside to reveal "one she'd prepared earlier". Subject now wandering the corridors sucking her thumb and giggling quietly to herself...
Okay, well, where did we leave off... Gaius is in the hospital, definitely a hardware issue, so here I am co-opting the system by posting from downstairs in the Mothership... {sigh} Did get desperate enough last night to unearth The iMac Formerly Known As and found that he's got some functionality left, but not really enough, so back to whining and pacing until I get a definitive diagnosis that hopefully isn't "new Mac".
So I have plenty of time to brood and get all emo about how my god, I don't even have any of y'all's PHONE NUMBERS written down outside Gaius's head in case of emergency and it's really kind of pathetic for a theoretically grown woman to be so emotionally involved with the Imaginary Friends inside the Magic Box that I can't even cope left to my own 3AM devices any more. Like I've said before, I really need to be dragged out to lunch on a fairly regular basis...
(This should be a wake-up call about how hermit-like I've been running my life. But then, it should have been the LAST time... {sigh})
BTW, if anybody out there happens to have a Mac-appropriate USB wired mouse that I could beg, borrow or steal off you to see if that might address the largest stumbling block to getting Formerly to cooperate with me, DO give me a call....
Okay, well, where did we leave off... Gaius is in the hospital, definitely a hardware issue, so here I am co-opting the system by posting from downstairs in the Mothership... {sigh} Did get desperate enough last night to unearth The iMac Formerly Known As and found that he's got some functionality left, but not really enough, so back to whining and pacing until I get a definitive diagnosis that hopefully isn't "new Mac".
So I have plenty of time to brood and get all emo about how my god, I don't even have any of y'all's PHONE NUMBERS written down outside Gaius's head in case of emergency and it's really kind of pathetic for a theoretically grown woman to be so emotionally involved with the Imaginary Friends inside the Magic Box that I can't even cope left to my own 3AM devices any more. Like I've said before, I really need to be dragged out to lunch on a fairly regular basis...
(This should be a wake-up call about how hermit-like I've been running my life. But then, it should have been the LAST time... {sigh})
BTW, if anybody out there happens to have a Mac-appropriate USB wired mouse that I could beg, borrow or steal off you to see if that might address the largest stumbling block to getting Formerly to cooperate with me, DO give me a call....
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