Odds and Ends the e-mail.
Once a month is what I promised, someone... or maybe not, maybe that was just a promise to myself. Here's what my current problem is, this is the problem that is facing me right now... I have this thing, this note, this message that I want to send to someone. The other night, I was lying in bed, thinking, which is a dangerous thing to do when you're trying to sleep, because, when trying to go to sleep I want to think of the soft sounds of rain pelting the window, thunder off in the distance, or I want to hear the hum of something mechanical. Some of my best naps were in my Grandma's sun room, which had a wall unit airconditioner. I would curl up on the floor, turn on the airconditioner during the summer time (it the winter it was a small space heater) and pass right out. But that night, the other night, I had to start thinking, and this thinking, forced me to get up, turn on my computer and write all my thoughts out.
"I need to send this to someone." I thought. Not just someone, a certain someone- but That's gonna have to be discussed later. Those of you who know me, or those of you who can read, and have read some of the previous entries, know I have no internet at my apartment. So I saved my little note (well, 6 page note) onto a disk, and thought, I'll just take this to so-and-so's computer and e-mail it from there.
OPTION 1) My Dad. There is a computer that's at my dad's house. It has the internet, and I'll go over and check my e-mail there maybe once a week. So I stoped by there to do this deed, and as it turns out... he has no A drive on the computer. I find this odd.
OPTION 2) Over Opinionated Girl. She's really not an option at all. She has a MAC, I have a PC. End of story.
OPTION 3) Theater Guy. I'm sitting at his computer right now. He has just moved into a small apartment down the street from me. His computer, sits on his desk, which is pushed up against a wall, which has a huge ass mirror mounted on it. So, ask I'm typing this, I can see myself, out of the periphery of my eyes... which is a little unnerving. Is this what I look like when I type. Is this what I look like all the time? I wonder if I'm having a good hair day?
As it turns out Theater Guy's computer doesn't have an A Drive either. He has a tiny lap top. I knew this coming over to the apartment. This sort of problem has happened to me before, and I've tried to use this computer before, but there's no A drive. Theater Guy told me that it would have been an extra 200 dollars added to the lap top to have an internal A drive, so he opted to buy an external drive. My hope, while driving over here, was that I'd find the external drive, plug it in, do my business, then go about my night, which includes a run on the treadmill at the gym.
Theater Guy is not here right now, and I've sort of looked around for the A drive, if you can extend the definition of looking around to somewhere by my feet... wait, wait, he just walked in the door.
I told him about how weird it was to have the mirror right in front of me.
"Yes, it is disconcerting. What's even worse is that there's a time of day when the sunlight comes through the window reflects off the mirror, and straight into your eyes."
"I'm glad it's night time."
I just asked him for the external A drive... there maybe hope yet.
Usually when I tell people I'm going to the gym, I end up not going, so lately, when I decide that I'm going to the gym, and people ask me what I'm doing, I say, "watching TV." People think I'm the laziest man alive.
There is no God. The external A drive is not in the apartment... my e-mail shall not get sent tonight. THe note that I so desperately want to send, shall not be sent, for at least another 15 hours. Oh well, them's the breaks, I have a treadmill that wants to kill me now.
"I need to send this to someone." I thought. Not just someone, a certain someone- but That's gonna have to be discussed later. Those of you who know me, or those of you who can read, and have read some of the previous entries, know I have no internet at my apartment. So I saved my little note (well, 6 page note) onto a disk, and thought, I'll just take this to so-and-so's computer and e-mail it from there.
OPTION 1) My Dad. There is a computer that's at my dad's house. It has the internet, and I'll go over and check my e-mail there maybe once a week. So I stoped by there to do this deed, and as it turns out... he has no A drive on the computer. I find this odd.
OPTION 2) Over Opinionated Girl. She's really not an option at all. She has a MAC, I have a PC. End of story.
OPTION 3) Theater Guy. I'm sitting at his computer right now. He has just moved into a small apartment down the street from me. His computer, sits on his desk, which is pushed up against a wall, which has a huge ass mirror mounted on it. So, ask I'm typing this, I can see myself, out of the periphery of my eyes... which is a little unnerving. Is this what I look like when I type. Is this what I look like all the time? I wonder if I'm having a good hair day?
As it turns out Theater Guy's computer doesn't have an A Drive either. He has a tiny lap top. I knew this coming over to the apartment. This sort of problem has happened to me before, and I've tried to use this computer before, but there's no A drive. Theater Guy told me that it would have been an extra 200 dollars added to the lap top to have an internal A drive, so he opted to buy an external drive. My hope, while driving over here, was that I'd find the external drive, plug it in, do my business, then go about my night, which includes a run on the treadmill at the gym.
Theater Guy is not here right now, and I've sort of looked around for the A drive, if you can extend the definition of looking around to somewhere by my feet... wait, wait, he just walked in the door.
I told him about how weird it was to have the mirror right in front of me.
"Yes, it is disconcerting. What's even worse is that there's a time of day when the sunlight comes through the window reflects off the mirror, and straight into your eyes."
"I'm glad it's night time."
I just asked him for the external A drive... there maybe hope yet.
Usually when I tell people I'm going to the gym, I end up not going, so lately, when I decide that I'm going to the gym, and people ask me what I'm doing, I say, "watching TV." People think I'm the laziest man alive.
There is no God. The external A drive is not in the apartment... my e-mail shall not get sent tonight. THe note that I so desperately want to send, shall not be sent, for at least another 15 hours. Oh well, them's the breaks, I have a treadmill that wants to kill me now.