There's a theory that good luck and bad luck comes in threes. This notion, while numerologically interesting, really doesn't give the universe much credit for being interesting and unpredictable. Those people who know me well know that I semi-seriously have a patron muse known as Murphy, She Who Makes Things Interesting, whom I personify as a lovely thing who brings misfortune indiscriminantly in order to allow for there to be conflict, growth and change in our world.
    Well wherever she is, right now Murph is really earning her keep.
    As you can no doubt tell, True Believers, this has been a Time and a Half and it's by no means over. Nor, however, has it been all bad, either. Almost in answer to my previous entry, I had a visit from Home to check up on my progress and bring a little of Home Here, which was nice. I've had various Good Things happen... I mean Gehenna, we get a new Hero System Edition (up to 5 now! And I slept with it! Er, no...), a new Car Wars set, a new Captain's Log for Star Fleet Battles, and this is all like... in a row. Like little duckies all set up for the mean ol' hunter to shoot down just like that, rat-a-tat-tat. I also seem to have somehow stumbled onto a writing project that I can, tentatively, work on with the possibility of it turning into something that wouldn't be laughed at and derided by those of the Serious Writer Mindset -- a mindset which often feels it must laugh, clown, laugh at those who wish to product non-serious works for their own or Clannish consumption -- if only I can find the Time and Space in which to work on it (and if you're a friend reading this... well okay, that's highly theoretical, but if somehow you are then please don't ask me about this project. I'm keeping it wrapped up so tight that Mum-Ra would call it daddy, at least until I know better how it's going to go).

    But as they say (in bad movies about reporters and in bad Made-For-TV-Movies about reporters), If it bleeds, it leads, and the story about the kitten who heroically rescues the bird from its tree (carrying it in its stomach) goes last. So you're here to hear about my bad luck, ain't'cha? Miserable so-and-sos, vultures, all of you! Caw... caw...
    First off, I'm currently Car-Less. Sans Car is a Bad Thing in the big city; but when you're living just three seconds north of The Middle Of Nowhere, it's about as much fun as letting a stranger on the street peel your eyelids with a cheese grater for his Grated Eyelid Special. I'm walking everywhere, which is no doubt very good for my poor and abused body, but this situation is really wearing said Poor Abused Body out. I hit the limits of walking whenever it decides out of the blue to Piss Down Snow (yes, even in May, go fig) like it did yesterday, as if Mother Nature's trying to say "Hey world, do you think I'm out of surprises? Well take this, Mofos!". CarLessNess should be fixed within a month, but that's a loooong time to wait. More's the point, as a card-carrying Very Private Person, having to beg and plead for a ride every time I want to take my garbage to the dump or just go and Hang Somewhere on my own is very grating to my nerves. Almost Cheese Grating, if you get my drift. I have very good friends who have been greet, greet, greet about ride-giving, but still I really miss having mobility.
    However, we can't really call CarLessNess the worst thing in the world, now can we? I mean, I get fresh air out of the deal; I'm sure that when my legs start to talk to me again, they'll realise that I was just doing them a favour in abusing the hell out of their joints and tendons; and I'm saving on fuel! Yay saving on fuel! So no. Losing my ability to drive is not the worst of all possible worlds.

    Having my laptop stolen, however, is.
    For those of you who aren't Tuned Into the minutiae of my life (Thrill! -- As Chris washes dishes!), I work at Brewster Academy as The Guy What Is Gonna Move Them From FileMaker Pro to MySQL, 'Cause That's What He's A-Doin'. It's a really stressful, thankless job at this juncture, mostly because I'm converting an organically grown (those of you who have had to deal with Organic Growth in Computers have just shuddered. The rest of you are wondering what the deal is. Fear. Feeeeeear.) database to something more usable, and my only set of requirements are basically 'do it right'. I've spent the better part of a year 'doing it right' and I'm positive that I haven't, no matter how careful (yet fast, can't forget fast, those deadlines are always... always... always looming) I've been. To this end, I've kept careful notes, road-mapping out how Things Fit Where in the organic database. Since I'll have to eventually migrate over the data, I've kept notes on What Needs To Be Turned Into What Data-Puree to make this easier. I've kept checklists of things that I need to do as I complete each task. I then backed all this up to an external hard drive, so that there would be two copies of the same data.
    Naturally, both my laptop containing this information and the hard drive backing up this information were stolen from my locked office.
    Now put aside the anger and violation I feel at this (and which I felt when my home was broken into, year ago). Put aside the fact that I lost all of my email, much of my recent writing, and many files that were dear to me on a personal nature. Put all this aside and please focus on the fact that I am now in the middle of a desert of Shifting Sands without a map. Worse, I'm near to a Deadline rather than to an Oasis.
    You can imagine that I've been feeling rather Sick With Worry, and it's only going to get worse in the future, sports fans.
So please, Pray for Bobo...

    Additional. As I finished this up, I heard a 'thud' from my patio window. Looking out, I see a squirrel bashing his brains out against my window's glass, trying to get the seed out of my bird-feeder. While that seed is for the birds, I can admire the squirrel's self-destructive persistence in accomplishing his goal. Reminds me of someone...

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