In the land of computers, there are few things more destructive or annoying than having to completely wipe a hard drive clean and then reinstalling every piece of software on it. Which, of course, is exactly what Jeff and I did to my computer on Sunday.

I've been having problems with my computer lately.

It's not unlike going to a psychotherapist; it's a serious measure and isn't to be taken lightly. One wouldn't go to a computer psychotherapist and say, "Once a week or so, things just aren't right—I'll open a program and it'll just bomb on me," then dab at your eyes with a pocket hankie.

Dr. Wipe-And-Reinstall generally hears complaints like this: "My computer freezes at least once a day for reasons unknown. It hates these particular programs. When I have Outlook open, I can't always open Mozilla. I have to reboot at least once a day—if the freeze doesn't get me first—because one of my programs has sprung a memory leak."

"Are you going out today? If you are, then don't forget to take your umbershoot."

If my mother said this to you, you would probably look at her with a great degree of puzzlement. If my mother said this to me, I would know that we were supposed to get rain that day.My mother can be dour and serious. She was the eldest of four children, and her unasked-for position of seniority required her to be the caretaker of her siblings while her parents ran a small store.

As a result of that caretaking, I can vouch for her excellence at it.

She graduated from high school in 1961, when in Arkansas, the propriety of the 1950s hadn't quite been overtaken by the gaiety and looseness of the 1960s. She was unmarried, and through casual comments she made, I gather that her family despaired that she would ever marry.

As Gareth's workload didn't ease up on him today, I ended up driving alone down to Birmingham to see the 3:50 showing of Memento.

First, a small definition. Ever noticed that on Velveeta there's a note that says it's "pasteurized processed cheese food." Remember—it's not cheese, it's cheese food - what cheese eats!

Today I got one step closer to getting back to work on my latest work of fiction. For the past two weeks, I have made the conscious decision to put my fiction work aside in favor of making good on some website/graphic design debts owed to some friends.

Admittedly, I haven't hated the work. I enjoy graphic design, site design, and all sorts of artistic conundrums. But after finishing a logo (for Brad), site designs/layouts/greymatter implementations (Kat's and Sean's sites), and another greymatter implementation (for Jessica), my brain is just about worn out.Not only have I not picked up my pen in a few days, I haven't even wanted to. The lack of desire to write tells me what I need to know; the creative portion of my brain is zapped, and needs a recharge.

Guys, it's been six months of work. It's over. domesticat.net is finally skinnable.

First off, I owe two people massive hugs, thanks, appreciation, and probably a dinner and a few drinks apiece:

Brad.
Gareth.They each know why, but I feel like telling the world anyway.