For starters, as is tradition with my laptops, my trusty bamboo Asus took its last trip under my sweaty fingers, not long before my birthday (which is on July 8th, for those of you planning to send me hand-made cards and trinkets that don't smell like vanilla). It was creeping toward death for awhile after an errant passionate gesture spilled beer on its sacred keyboard - it had taken up typing the letter j incessantly, f11-ing back and forth rapidly until I crumpled in a heap from seizures, as well as opening and closing developer tools.
As a result, I'd taken up beating the shit out of it because I have the patience of a spoiled Queen. This murdered the shitty hard drive, which I replaced. I lost everything I hadn't recently backed up on the old hard drive, despite my sister's best efforts, which basically ruined my soul. The universe wasn't done with me yet, though - within hours of learning the fateful end of quite a bit of work I'd done for my blog, I gracefully dumped the laptop from the height of two feet, cracking the screen.
The very same fucking evening, my son woke up in the middle of the night, grumpily demanding a snack and in his frustration at having his snack delivered in a timely fashion, smacked his cup of water onto his father's laptop, frying it soundly. It seems no laptop is safe when my birthday looms.
Ordinarily I would have replaced my laptop, however the money I had earmarked for that purpose now has to be utilized for moving out on my own, since I am in the process of a divorce. It's a fairly amicable one, and was honestly a long time in coming.
Also, I have a 23-year old boyfriend. Okay, you're up to date.