I am at my mother’s house. Why am I at my mother’s house, you ask? Why, because I cannot check my email at my own house, and it was starting to get to me. And why can’t I check my email? Why? Oh, well, that. Our video card, as far as I can tell, disintegrated and must be replaced. I don’t really know what the video card does except, I assume, enable video, but apparently the computer requires one to turn on. Which maybe wouldn’t be so much of a problem if our computer weren’t so old and persnickety, but as it is, we have to order one that will work with our existing, uh, stuff, so it will be a few more days before the thing is replaced.

So I am at my mother’s house. I have commandeered her computer. It was kind of easy, since she wasn’t at home when I got here. It was just me and the cat, who leaps down the stairs and thumps into walls at bizarre intervals. But now she’s home and possibly expects to, I don’t know, use her own stuff again, so I guess I will be heading back to my own home. My own computerless home. Ah, internet access, how dependent I have become upon thee…