I woke up Sunday morning to the smell of burning electrical circuits, one of my most favorite (facetiousness fully intended) smells in the world, because, not being paranoid at all, when I smell that, I automatically assume that all of the wiring in my entire house is about to burst into flames so I walk around, dragging my palms over the walls, looking for hot spots, while my nose is working like some rodent.
Have I mentioned that I am deathly afraid of fire?
I used to be Panic Attack afraid of fire, but I've calmed down to Incredibly Freaked Out afraid of fire. I'm probably the worst at Christmas time, when I lie awake many nights, worrying about all of those extension cords and lights, and, oh-gawd I can't even think about that right now...
I finally located the source of the Very Scary Electrical Smell, which was my desktop computer, and when we popped it open, we found that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.
No fire. No computer, either, but, that's not a big deal compared to, say, not being able to reach your children because of a wall of flames.
See where my mind goes? Isn't that awful?
I take full responsibility for killing the computer, because even though I do try my best to keep the dust out, there was probably enough cat hair compacted around the front USB jacks to built a whole other cat, so, yeah, it was definitely a death due to neglect thing. Luckily, we have the rockin' little netbook, so nobody is twitching due to internet withdrawal. I haven't decided if I am in the market for a whole new set-up or just a repair--we'll see what mood strikes me over the course of the next week or two, and, of course, what I can get away with. You know how it is...you don't WANT to have to buy a new computer, but, gee, you sure hate to waste this "opportunity"...hehe...