Last weekend, while taking a break from web development I decided that it would be a good idea to restart my computer. Keywords there being “would be” and “good idea.” As it turns out, it was a bad idea. My computer didn’t come back on. Well, OK, it turned on and then went to a blue screen, of DEATH. Generally, the first time something like this happens you simply press reset, cross your fingers, pray, and peer at the screen while holding one hand over your eyes like you’re watching a scary movie. I must have forgotten to do one of those standard things, because after the second, third, fourth, oh-my-gawd-please-work-5th restart, I was still being greeted by the vibrant blue screen.

Two hours later, my laptop showed signs of a virus. The signs became obnoxious billboards. Then the billboards mutated into something scary and ate my hard drive, as well as my heart. I did the only thing I could do. I entered a period of mourning on the couch hugging a pillow and crying hysterically. OK, maybe it wasn’t that extreme, but this computer stuff is serious business to me. Take away my job, hobby, and outlet for wasting time - all at once? I’m left muttering ridiculous things and using dumdums as pacifiers as I stare blankly at the ceiling, hoping the mutated-billboard-virus turns out to be a benevolent ruler.

Eventually, in defeat, I erased everything. Monday I was able to fix the blue screen issue with my computer by spending $200. So, two hundred dollars and a broken heart later, things are back to normal. Except now I’m overwhelmed with depression because of the lost information on my laptop hard drive. There’s only one thing I can think of that will put an end to this depression. Sushi anyone?