Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones
cleolinda

Compocalypse '09: Your Oxen Have Died

So let me tell you what happened last night. As much as I appreciate all the coupons and deals and offers to build me a computer (seriously, thank you so much), I didn't even see those comments until it was too late, because I went and picked out what I wanted last night. And no, I pretty much didn't do any comparison pricing at all. You may not fully grasp how incredibly... I don't even know what... I am at this point. Of which I am not proud. Because normally, I'm the one who stays calm when other people have problems--often even when I have problems myself--and just sort of choke it down and logic it out and go, "Well, feeling things isn't really going to help, so let's figure out what actually needs to be done." It's an Elinor Dashwood way of life, really.

Which means that the not-feeling of things tends to build up over the years until you finally have a psychotic break.

Yeah.

I think most of it is that everything, everything, is really stressful right now. Because I didn't pitch this kind of bitch or fall to pieces when Betsy 1.0 died. My sister's moved back home so the house is just fuller than it used to be, we had two months of planning and cleaning for that family reunion, and pretty much everyone I'm talking to, all of y'all, seems to be dealing with life suck right now, so I don't know if Mercury's in retrograde or what, but things seem to be kind of bad all over. My point, which I am ever so gradually getting around to, is that I am not being smart and looking for the best bargain. I am pointing at things and going "MAKE IT GO AWAY NOW."

I think part of it is also that I can't afford any of this anyway, and since the Bank of Mama de Cleo doesn't charge interest, I might as well be in for a pound as well as a penny. I've got a new agent, I'm hoping to sell something, anything, pretty soon, and either the sale of the American 15M rights or the children's book would cover $750 just as well as it would cover $500. My sister keeps telling me that you never get a laptop from a store, you custom-order it, you should do that with any computer anyway, I'll regret spending money I didn't have to later, and she's probably right. It's just that my brain is completely fried and I am incapable of caring at the moment.

(Although all of this is starting to sound a lot like--well, having no computer of my own to work on, I spent the weekend rereading the collected works of Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I'm starting to sound a lot like Pa in the Plum Creek book: "When the wheat crop comes in, Caroline, we'll live like kings! KINGS! I'll just go ahead and build an entire house on credit." And by the fifteenth time he says this, you know, you KNOW, that there will not be any wheat crop. The fact that it's eaten by a Biblical plague of locusts is just icing on the cake of fail at that point, really. "It doesn't matter if I waste money! I can pay it all off once I sell a book!" Yeah, Pa, you just go on saying that.)

So what I'm trying to tell you is that I went to Best Buy (and saw the cute salesguy again) and looked at a couple of Dell laptops and ended up going with the Studio 17 something or other, the one with the full-sized keyboard and number pad, a 17" screen, 4GB of RAM (expandable to 8GB, I think), a duo core processor, 500 GB storage, whatever, I don't care. It's big enough to use as a more portable desktop, I can hook it up to other keyboards/mice/monitors/whatever, I can move it around for Oscar liveblog season, I'll get used to Vista eventually, free upgrade to Windows 7, whatever, I don't care.

Salesguy With a Resemblance to James McAvoy goes back in the back to get it.

Best Buy is completely out of Dell Studio 17 laptops.

The nearest one is in Alabaster.

They can get it here by Monday.

When the guy at the customer service desk told me this, I just started laughing. I mean, of course. Of course they don't have it. It wouldn't be my life if they had it in stock. I just said whatever, I've been without a computer of my own, unable to do anything but check email and news, for ten days now. Five more won't matter. Maybe I can figure out which outlets were installed by Satan by then, so as not to fry the new laptop (whose name I have already picked out, although it might jinx her to tell you what it is). So... in conclusion, I'm going to go clean for the electrician now. Whenever he gets here. Next week, probably.


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Tags: bad days, computer: lizzie, computers, not one of my better moments, shopping, tribulations
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