Not that there hadn't been signs, mind you. For two weeks now, something has been nibbling away at the computer innards. We first noticed it when Turtle exploded: "Hey! Where's Free Cell? It's not on here! Of all the stupid..." And though we tried to calm him, it only resulted in muttered threats of how we'd like it if someone deleted Puzzle Pirates, or worse yet--Facebook!
Nobody was deleting anything...and yet the fact remained. Not only Free Cell, but Spider Solitaire and all the standard games that stock the basic set-up were gone.
The next noticeable glitch came three days later: I did a print screen and tried to save it in paint. No Paint. Where was paint? How can there be a windows without paint? And yet...it was gone...spilled messily throughout the modem, no doubt, and dumped osmotically into that vast chasm called the "void of lost foreverness" where it joined, very probably, a malicious hoard of run-away homework assignments and painstakingly filled out income tax forms.
So today, when I walked into the house and saw a black screen instead of my computer generated screen-saver aquarium fish, I panicked. However, after only a moment in this hysterical state, I regained control and promptly began CPR--computer procedures for resuscitation. I restarted the system five or six times, plugged and unplugged all the cords, struck all the magic F keys, and hurled insults at the stubborn monitor, but one cold truth remained written indelibly on the screen after every feeble attempt at re-bootation: the virus had finally swallowed a vital organ--something nameless and only referred to as number 32. tum-tum-tum.
Well, it looked like I'd stumbled onto a hopeless situation, but I wasn't giving up yet...I had a shock disc--a re-installation CD--ha ha! I pulled out the paddles and said: "Stand Back!"
No biggie. It only took three hours to reformat and reload.
No biggie. It only took three hours to reformat and reload.