Only a few hours after the CD player dismantling, I dropped, holy cats, dropped my laptop. I flipped my mattress, throwing (yes, okay: holy cats, _throwing_) aside the laptop I had left unnoticed on the bed, on the other side of the jumble of covers. (Well, it was sleeping.) In the hour or so I had spent earlier that afternoon trying to coax my CD player back to life, I had gradually drawn close to accepting the likelihood of its demise, but this leisurely grieving process was nothing compared to the flashing instant after I heard the sharp THWACKETY THWACK of my six-week-old laptop hitting the floor and, probably, the wall and baseboard heater on its way down. Who knew you could pass through all of the Kubler-Ross stages instantly?
Phew. It seems fine. I am only faintly embarrassed to admit that I kissed it, whether in gratitude or to make it feel better, I don’t know.
An unrelated matter: I was looking up a book on Jan van Eyck, when I was informed by the thorough folks at Amazon that there were other items that might be of scholarly interest to a student of Northern Renaissance art.