Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Sweet Buttery Eris Lays a Deuce on Me

People often ask me "So Erin, why are you a devotee of a chaos goddess when you can't stand uncertainty and hate drama?" and I frequently reply with Goddammit it's 3:30 in the morning get out of my lingerie drawer I just got it organized. 

But I think the real reason I follow Mother Mayhem is this: 
  • I'm not sure she exists.
  • I'm not sure ANY deity exists, if I'm being honest, as they all seem to ignore me
  • But bad things seem to happen to me anyway, so it helps to put a "human" face to them. 
  • This way, when life shits on me, I can go "I am so blessed! Lady Chaos is showering me with her love and affection!"
  • And I end up not taking it as personally, because it's like Eris is Overly Attached Goddess and this is just how she is. At least I've got a deity paying attention to me, even if it's incredibly dysfunctional, yeah?

Case in point:  Today I woke up to the dulcet tones of "Oh, good morning Tech Support!"  Before I'd even had my coffee, I had to fix the family computer that kept booting to the Windows Recovery Utility. I am not awake enough, nor drunk enough, to deal with this shit. 

I pop in the Vista disk and see if I can fix it. The Startup Repair tool says "Dude, ain't nothin' wrong here."

Oookay. I try to do System Restore from last good known save point... and it still boots right back to Recovery Console. 

12 hours later...

Well, I've managed to figure out how to clear the Admin password and unlock the account, which means that I'm making progress. But clearly there's something wrong with the partition, because when I type DISKPART at the command prompt, I get this:

when I should get something that looks like this:

Gee thanks, Mama Mindfuck! I really wanted to be doing IT stuff all day instead of writing. And hey, the big steaming crap you took on me is keeping me nice and toasty warm. 

If there's any good side to this, it's the fact that it's nice to periodically remind The Colonel that I do serve a purpose in this house, and that if I weren't here he'd be spending money on tech support that would take the computer for days and not really care if they fixed it or not. I, on the other hand, am invested in this, and while I try to fix it he can use my laptop to check his email. 

Oh, Eris. Why must your love sting like hate?


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