The day started well. We met Traveler-in-Journalism Deb Krol at Selah Tea for elevensies and a chat.
After our visit, Deb took off Bar Harbor-way, to pursue her journalistic duties. Steve and I did a brief tour of Main Street, stopped by Children’s Book Cellar to talk with Ellen, and at Barrels, where I bought a salt-and-peppermill (filled with sea salt and peppercorns). Social business taken care of, we hit the grocery store and came home to lunch.
Whereupon things commenced in to falling apart.
Steve had kindly set up an Archers Beach Store under the Hyperspatial Boardwalk Shop, but felt it needed stock. Cafe Press being. . .Awfully Annoying to work with, and Steve the one with the close-in deadline, I took it upon myself to get a couple of things up on the shelves (you can see them here), and by the time I was done with that, and had dealt with some emails of — ahem — a startling nature, my brain had kindly forked over with what had gone wrong with yesterday’s writing, and offered a solution. I love it when my brain does the heavy lifting for me.
I therefore retired with Number Ten Ox to the couch in order to concentrate on Getting It Right This Time.
And that’s where things went Really Bad.
Ox came on line, and many things happened at once.
First, Windows felt it incumbent upon it to give me a Very Stern Warning about Dropbox, and how it wasn’t a Safe Program. (Look, Windows is the unsafest program I have on any of my devices, so — pot-kettle-black, all right?) By the time I won that argument, Eset was scolding me because it hadn’t updated its virus databases in Forever (by reason of Ox having not been in use for that long), and by the time I got that sorted out and put away, I was greeted with a pop-up box cheerfully informing me that Windows was formatting Eset.
Um, eek?
I turned the computer off. Turned it back on.
Eset has vanished, leaving behind about a dozen esoterically named files in the library. Frantic, I look everywhere, but it didn’t even show up in the list of programs to UNinstall.
Yes, Windows eated my virus protection.
A brief pause for disbelief, followed by a case of strong hysterics.
Teresa Carrigan on Facebook, and Steve, here at Storm Central, got me sorted out by reminding me that I could re-download the program from Eset. I found the email confirming the license, and. . .Eset is back on the job, and I?
Am exhausted.
Technology, children, is not your friend.
Tomorrow — couch, computer, Words In A Line, dammit. Preferably Good Words in a Line, but as long as they’re all pointed in the right direction, I’ll be happy.