This is a sad story.

I posted that I was going to blog more, and dammit, I WAS going to blog more. I uploaded a crap ton of pictures, edited a bunch of them, put them into folders to help myself out and was all ready to post away and... my computer died. Cue taps. My beloved Mac failed me. I brought it to the Genius Bar with low expectations. I even asked the guy helping me if he couldn't fix it, would he think it it would be weird if I cried. He laughed but I was SERIOUS. After spending an hour there I was told my hard drive was donezo. I am very proud, I didn't shed a tear. I wrote J sad, dramatic text messages. I kept trying to turn it on even though I knew nothing was going to happen. It was a low point in my computer owning life. J came home from travelling for business, pulled a hard drive out of a different Mac (we have far too many computers in our house) and low and behold, IT WORKED. He was even able to crack into my old, broken one and pulled all of my pictures, documents (including one of my best friend's wedding invitations I am working on) off it and put it on the new one. Just when I thought I couldn't love him anymore.

But.

This is a sad story, remember?

Last night I was working on the wedding invite, got up to eat dinner and came back to a black screen. No big deal, my settings are such that my computer goes to sleep after 15 minutes of inactivity. Only it wouldn't turn back on. It's doing the exact same thing as before. J is convinced it's something in the computer hardware itself, not the hard drive. I cried quietly in the corner for a bit (not really, but almost) and asked if he could fix it. I got a maybe, which I'm hanging onto for dear life.

So I'm back to where I was last week, with no pictures and no computer. I'm writing this from my work computer, which I'm not a big fan of doing. Hopefully he can get something to limp along until I can save up the billions of dollars I need to get a new one.

Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go talk to some food about this.