Fucking Computers

Long-time readers of this blog may recall that I have computer problems every few years. My normal response is to simply replace the computer. Frequently, the computer is well out of date by this point, so it's virtually a necessity anyway. This time, that option is unavailable to me.

Over the last few days, I've found my... what, 2-year-old desktop..? has been playing up. I've got it set up so there are two Admin logins (2nd being for emergency backup purposes) for installation of software and then me as a user with no admin rights. My own login has been desperately slow. For no obvious reason, Photoshop suddenly couldn't play a 12-frame GIF animation with a 0.06 second frame delay. It managed about a frame a second, with occasional bursts where it might get through 2 whole frames in a second. I didn't dare try a movie. I could start up a web browser, but navigating from page to page, or opening new tabs reduced everything to a crawl. Frequently, it would report that a page had 'become unresponsive'. Switching to email was a chore. Then things started to get really weird.

I mean, I accept that computers - particularly PCs - will slow down over time and through use. Startup is never as fast on a 2-year-old machine as it was when it was brand new. Programs are installed, the startup sequence gets added to. That kind of thing is inevitable.

But when a machine takes a couple of minutes to start up one day, then about 25 minutes the next, and can't run any fucking software, and then takes several minutes to close windows, let alone programs, there's something very seriously adrift.

And when it reports, in the bottom, righthand side of the screen that "this version of Windows is not genuine", it's starting to look like some kind of malware must be at work.

So, after sleeping very poorly last night after a day of utter frustration which left me near tears, I figured the situation left me with two choices:

1. Start the machine up as Admin, run a full virus check, run the registry checker, and run system restore to bomb it back a few weeks.
2. Give up and take it back to the shop, for the first time ever in my life actually taking damned advantage of the damned service contract.

And surely you know I'm too pig-headed for the second option.

So now I'm working on a machine which, at first glance, is up and running normally again. The system restore was simple enough, the registry checker picked up nothing out of the ordinary (3 errors have been present since I first started the machine, and are never fixed) and the virus checker reported nothing... having taken 9 hours, 1 minute and 1 second to check the machine.

That's significantly better than the 3+ days it estimated for most of the duration of the check.

As an aside, I also cleared out some of my 'Temporary Files'... It frustrates me no end that Windows is capable of hanging on to over half a gigabyte of 'Temporary Files' - some of them executables, by the looks of it - because it's supposed to remove them when it's finished. That's why they're called 'Temporary'.

It's been an awfully stressful day, and I've kept myself distracted - as far as possible - by reading the second Millennium book, The Girl Who Played with Fire. I was just over halfway through yesterday... and now I've almost finished what has been one of the most exciting books I've read this year (OK, it's still January, so that's not difficult). Even without the need for distraction, I might have found it difficult to put down. It's not quite as exciting (or as twisty) as The Delicate Dependency, which I finished shortly before I finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but I've been very impressed with almost every aspect.

The extent of Larsson's product placement is disturbing, but I guess that could just be the result of a writer who was fastidious about his details...

Nocturnal Self-Harm

When I was younger, I used to find myself waking up with a bleeding nose every so often. Most of the time, I couldn't figure out why but, on a few notable occasions, I woke up during the event that caused it, rather than afterward.

Once, I was banging my face into my pillows.

Once, I had my finger jammed up my nose.

I mention this only because I have now experienced a new variation on this theme - thankfully one not involving my nose.

I was having a strange dream about travelling somewhere by train. I was on a station platform that seemed to be underground, though the layout was something like the nearest station to my parents' home - that is, there's the open platform, a covered-over but otherwise open 'waiting area', and a staircase leading up to the ticket office. Something about this dream station (the darkness, maybe?) made it seem to be located in a natural underground cavern - the columns looked more like stalagmites and stalactites that had joined together, rather than something built.

An old friend of mine was there as well, so it seemed as though we were going wherever together, and we were trying to decide where on the platform would be best to stand. There was plenty of choice - other than the two of us, I saw maybe three people occupying the platform.

That is, until the train arrived... whereupon floods of people seemed to come from the walls, pushing toward the train and, in that fashion typical of frequent passengers of the London Underground, pushing other people out of the way to ensure they got themselves on.

My friend and I eventually managed to squeeze on, though I can't even be sure that we were in the same carriage. Most of my attention was occupied by a small boy who was doing something annoying. What it was, I don't recall - I really should have written this up yesterday, when it was fresh(er) in my mind - but it must have been serious because I eventually grabbed him by the throat, lifted him up (actually made easier by the crowding) and proceeded to throttle him, while he tried to laugh it off.

And then, when I woke up, I found my right forearm was going numb, because I was strangling it (just above the elbow) with my left hand.

Curiously, in the dream, I was throttling the boy with my right hand.

Strange things, dreams...

I had a call from my bank today... one of those "just checking... what can we do for you?" type of calls that seem entirely superfluous, though I'm sure the banks feel they are a vital tool in ensuring that customers feel 'cared for'.

Point of fact, banks: If you really want to care for your customers, increase your fucking interest rates. 0.01%? Versus what kind of profits you're making off our backs? Are you fucking serious?

There was some guff about their insurance offers - combining life insurance and contents insurance on one policy? - but nothing of any genuine use... Good old banks, eh?

The Demon Drink

Several times in the past, I've mentioned experiencing something like insomnia. Every so often, I'll be lying in bed, wide awake, well into the morning. This happens regardless of what time I go to bed, though I'll freely admit I tend to go to bed not long before 'tomorrow morning' begins, and sometimes quite a while after. Sometimes it's because my mind is racing - if something's bothering me, for example - but sometimes I can't identify any reason.

It has been said that there's a state of tiredness where you go beyond mere tiredness and into a weird, hyperwakeful state... and it certainly feels like that sometimes. I've only once stayed awake almost all night and, even then, eventually got to sleep.

On a whim, a few weeks ago, I decided to have an alcoholic drink while watching a late movie. This actually happened several times over the space of a couple of weeks (who knew there would be so many late movies I was sufficiently interested in?) and, on each and every occasion, I managed to get off to sleep almost immediately after reading a chapter or so of whatever book I was reading.

Perhaps I should have made a connection, but I genuinely didn't...

...Until I'd spent a couple of weeks without any alcoholic nightcaps and having trouble getting to sleep again.

It strikes me as a Bad Thing that I might 'need' to take a drink before going to sleep - surely alcoholism lies down that path - but perhaps it suggests that I'm tense? Maybe I need to relax?

Clearly not having a job to make me tense and grouchy is making me tense and grouchy.

In other news, 600 posts, 4000 pageviews... Gosh...