Beautiful Snow

Imagine you’re on a deadline.  Imagine it’s all going well — to the wire, but well.  Then, imagine you turn on your laptop and see this:

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Upgrade might be delayed slightly — I need to get the ol’ workhorse repaired to actually be able to complete my edits.  I’ve got a loaner laptop at the moment, but there will still be … issues.

Naturally, all data is backed up and the manuscript appears to be totally intact, so life isn’t over — life has just hit a wee snag.

One of the curious things about this has been the repair process.  I dropped the machine off at our local repair agents for Apple hardware (they are the dudes — there are no other dudes), who said, “Oh, yeah.  Right.  Sure.  Looks fucked, bro.  Oh, and our tech’s away now.  Can we, I don’t know, get back to you in a week?  It might be longer, but it might be a week.”

That’s not a week for a fix, but a diagnosis.  So get this: our Apple agents here have just the one technician.  While I don’t want to move away from paradise to a more densely populated city, I am envious of people with actual Apple stores where Apple people work.  Having delegated agents who can’t even muster up three fucks to give?  That’s bad.

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