Resolution Update.

It's not that I'm slipping. Today was just kind of a fluke. We had a very busy weekend, with lots of manual labor on Saturday, fixing up some buildings on my family's land out in the hills. And we had a last-minute, very welcome visit from my best friend and her two radiantly beautiful children yesterday.
AND we're out of coffee, so I had no motivation to get up with Husband this morning. Plus I was very tired from the weekend. But so was Husband, and he got up and went off to work lickety split. I, on the other hand, did not. It's a testament to my exhaustion that I had no seven o'clock dreams. I did have some eight o'clock dreams, but I actually woke up before those could get out of control and turn into nine o'clock dreams.
Anyway, not the best way to start a new week, but it is what it is.
On the other hand, I have not spent much time on the computer this weekend. We were too busy, for one thing. Yesterday I restricted myself to the reading the NY Times website, which is chock full on Sundays. And my Facebook farm has been managed--I won't have to go there ever again if I so decide. Pathetic, I know, but I think it's important to be honest.
My parents are bringing down some furniture they're donating to our cause (our cause being "we have a rickety dining room table and the chairs keep breaking"), but besides that I have nothing to do but sew, sew, sew. Finished an apron for my mom last week (and forgot to take pictures), and it turned out really nicely. On the front of it I sort of appliqued one of those off-kilter log cabin squares, and it looked so cool I can't wait to make some more. Without coffee, however, I'm having a hard time deciding what those squares will become part of.
P.S. I put the picture of the purple flowers here so it would stop being such a text-heavy page. They have nothing to do with me sleeping in like a big fat sloth; they have nothing to do with me intending to make log cabin quilt squares today; they have nothing to do with me being out of coffee. But they're pretty and they're growing wild in the wooded hill across the street from our little house.

Which one of us is Lazarus in this scenario?

My computer died last night. I mean, doornail dead. I use a MacBook--it was not turning on; the battery was not dead; it was making this strange weary-robot noise and then just going quiet. I've used Macs my whole life (my dad was an Apple guy from the early '80's) and have seen--and learned ways around--a lot of computer glitches for someone with an only moderate interest in technology. And this was new and Husband's calm but thorough internet searches (performed on his own functioning laptop) turned up suggestions that did nothing to revive my little machine.
I despaired.
I had a bad feeling about it. I thought about all the cookies my computer remembers so I don't have to. I thought about all the recipes and blogs and fabric stores I have bookmarked. I thought about the schoolwork from last year that I never backed up. Then husband mentioned photographs and I had a near-meltdown.
Then I went a little catatonic.
Then I had a glass of wine and Husband went to great lengths to cheer me up and it worked--lost data flew from my head completely for a good, good portion of the evening.
Then we watched two episodes of the Wire and during that time I managed to completely forget about the busted laptop a couple times.
Then while I was brushing my teeth I tried one last time to turn the computer on and guess what? It worked. Like the tragic-heroine operatics I performed earlier in the night had never taken place. And I am writing this on my trusty guy right now.
I learned something about myself last night: I am too attached to my computer. I was also reminded of something that I never seem to remember during those moments when it would most come in handy: I have an all-too frequent tendency to lose perspective.
I must say, I did not cry. But I did grieve, on some level. And that's worse than throwing a hissy fit, I think. Because I wasn't grieving the lost photos (Husband has our honeymoon and there is really nothing priceless in my album: mostly meals we've eaten and nights we've drunk--har har), I was grieving the lost convenience. I know it's a tired cliche, and I'm sorry that I don't have a photo to make it wink, but this thing is totally a crutch for me. I have no job! I spend hours looking at the internet every day! The loss of the laptop would create a vaccuum and I was terrified to think that I had no idea what could possibly fill it. I am terrified that a malfunctioning computer could shake me so.
Writing this, I realize also that the computer makes me feel connected to the world, of which I'm not really a part at the moment. I mean, of course I'm a part of it, but I sometimes go whole days without seeing anyone besides Husband. I thought this recent sewing jag, productive as it's been, was solving the problem of my unemployment. I thought what I hated about not having a job was the feeling that I don't contribute, financially, to our lives. I thought I would make our house look pretty without spending (much) money, and that I might even sell something I made. And I still might. That's not really the point, though.
The point is that I spend too much time looking at the computer. I felt resurrected when it came back on--it's surpassingly pathetic, but I felt a little bit like I died when the computer did. I won't be able to look myself in the eye for like a week after writing that sentence. Which only proves the point: I must step away from the laptop for a while.
I will allow myself to write these posts, because I've loved writing them, loved writing at all in the last week. But Facebook has got to be stopped lest I succomb completely to stalking people I barely knew in high school and playing Farm Town until I become a virtual millionaire farmer, the lamest accomplishment I can imagine for a thirty-two-year-old married woman of above average intelligence who boasts both sparkling conversation skills and big boobs.
I want to join the world the old fashioned way. I want to sew lots of cool-looking things and give them away to the people I know well and love now. I want to live in such a way that a dead computer bums me out but ruins nothing.
Part of that will mean less internet, part will mean an external hard drive.