Because that computer had my LIFE on it. I study digital culture, but I don't think I truly appreciated the concept of an information economy until I lost the information I owned. I had most of it backed up, but nothing from the most recent month: all the work for school, the music I had bought, the audio project that took hours of work, all my emails, gone.
I went back and forth between morosely proclaiming, "My computer is broken," and "My computer is dead." Broken didn't seem to encompass the the finality of it, nor justify all my huffy puffy panic. Dead felt a little dramatic, but my panic was kind of EPIC PRPORTIONS at that point, and even the significant other was refraining from making fun of me, which is a bad, bad sign. So I, in all my emo frantic-ness, wrote out a grieving process for my laptop. Because it seemed like the thing to do.
It went like this.
- Denial. *spastic hand waving and general flailing* NonononononOHFUCKNOnonononononWHERE ARE THE FREAKING TOWELS I CANT FIND THEMnonononpleasenononononononononononononononononono.
- Anger. WHO TRIES TO CARRY A COMPUTER AND DRINK COFFEE AND PLAY WITH A PUPPY AT THE SAME TIME?? WHO DOES THAT??? STUPID ASSHOLES, THAT'S WHO. I'M A STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE.
- Bargaining. Okay if I put it in rice or in the slightly warm oven or leave it off for 24 hours like the internet says then maybe it'll work. This time I will back up my work daily. This time I will treat it right. I will treat my laptop like a lady, I promise. I will never read kink memes at work AGAIN, I swear to God.
. . .
Probably. Except perhaps occasionally. Okay I suck at this stage, lets's move on to
- Depression. Oh God, even wth the backing up that I didn't do that often, that's a whole month of work and music gone. All gone. All my emails are gone. I can't respond to anybody's email. No one will want to talk to me. They will all haaaate me. And we just paid it off, and the S.O. will hate me. And I will NEVER BE HAPPY AGAAAAAIINNnnnnn.
- Acceptance. I am a big girl, and I'm gonna put on my big girl pants and deal with it, okay? I will get a financing plan and pay off a new computer very very slowly and use the school computers and take notes on paper like I did all those years before I owned a laptop and I will not. freak. out. *deep breath* I will deal with my panic using food and fic, which is pretty much how I operate ALL THE TIME, and everything will be just like normal! Everything is really really really okay. Okay? Okay.
- Resurrection. So this part doesn't usually happen with actual grieving, but after a day the computer came back on, and we just had to replace the keyboard because the Enter key didn't work. So. Ahem. Then I felt kind of abashed by all my wibbly freak outs and the crying and the S.O. treating me like the fragile, fragile flower that I definitely turn into at the prospect of LOSING MY LAPTOP/INTERNET/LIFE.
And then I felt rather embarrased about all the drama and didn't publish this post to LJ. But if LJ's not the place to post all your spastic feeelings, then where is, I ask you?
In my defense, this is the puppy who wanted to play with me while I was holding both coffee and laptop:
Why, yes, that is a dildo in his mouth, why do you ask? TELL ME YOU WOULDN'T SPILL COFFEE ON YOUR COMPUTER IF THIS PUPPY TROTTED UP TO YOU CARRYING A DILDO.