A Quick One While He's Away

Yeah, that title is a "Spot the Reference," innit. Identify it, and join my sad little music-geek club.


Seriously, I'm a geek.

The title also refers to the fact that lately it's become really hard to blog on the weekend. Time was, I had a laptop computer that belonged to me - and by belonging to me, I mean I claimed it from the CEO of my former company after he was deposed under the guise of "cleaning out his files" and never gave it back. It was a state of the art machine for 2007, and even as it grew older and steadily less cutting-edge, it gave me a platform for writing, emailing, Facebooking, and surfing the Web that was completely independent of the house computer in my bedroom, which technically belongs to Beloved Spouse in that I gave it to him as a gift.
Got all that?

Anway, my lovely laptop died several months ago, and ever since I've been dependent upon BelSpouse's largesse in ceding his computer to me and/or borrowing Precocious Daughter's iPod Touch and/or taking advantage of my cell phone's laughably limited browsing capabilities. But I can't practically work on my blog from the latter two platforms, so it's the house computer or nothing.

And recently, BelSpouse has become stingy with his largesse. Computer-wise. You know. For whatever reason, he's decided it's critical that he play Europa Universalis or look at naked women during the time I previously would blog on Saturday or Sunday. In fact, one of his "birthday presents" to me last week was that I was allowed to use the computer on my special day without him standing over me and tapping his foot and asking if I didn't have something better to do than the thing I wish I could spend the rest of my life doing full-time.

I can't really question it. It's his computer, you know, in that I gave it to him as a gift. And there's no money in the Baudelaire budget to replace the departed laptop right now.


We are awash in luxuries.

 Today I have access. First of all, I had to do our taxes. Second of all, BelSpouse threw out his back yesterday and isn't comfortable sitting in front of the computer for hours at a stretch. Also, I'm waiting on him hand and foot, and he would be kind of an asshole if he didn't let me at least write for half and hour as a way of saying "thanks for putting up with me acting as if a pulled muscle were a broken spine and expecting you to pamper me accordingly."

Anyway, it's late, and this isn't much of a post. But here it is. I still exist on the weekend. Thought you might like to know.