Rainy Monday blues

As if we didn’t get enough rain over the summer, it continues to pound down on our fair city. Yesterday was shit; there was really nothing to do because the weather was so crap. Phil and Michael and I went to eat dim sum, but that was about it. I was one of those sit-around-the-house-and-do-nothing days. Which are kind of nice.

Our wifi isn’t working—something to do with—you know what, never mind, it’s a long story and I can’t be bothered to type it—so we have a bit of an “internet café” set up in our living room, which we recently remodelled. Well, rearranged and tidied up. But we have to plug in physically, so there we all sit, each on his own laptop, doing his own thing.

I had my external hard drive out there, too, the one I store all my photos on, as well as movies and TV shows I’ve downloaded, not to mention the complete backup file for my laptop. I dropped it off the coffee table, and now it doesn’t work. Luckily, there’s a data recovery place near my office, so I’m hoping they can fix it.

Of course, it’ll probably cost me a couple hundred bucks, which sucks because that’s money I could be saving for my vacation.

The worst thing is, I only have myself to blame, so I’m mad at myself. It’s not a “stupid Windows” or “stupid Vista” thing, which would be more palatable—at least there’d be a bad guy other than me.

Oh well.

Just now, on my way up to the office in the elevator, there was a guy, mid-30s probably, of Indian descent, who had his iPod on quite loudly, enough that everyone in the lift could hear what he was listening to. It was “Groovy Kind of Love” by Phil Collins.

I’m not sure what to make of that.