There might be a chance, if I could find a power cord for him.
Alas, my trusted companion, whom proved over and over again his sturdiness and whatnot in handling manuscripts well over a hundred-thousand words, has an issue with the power cord. As far as I can trace, it’s probably a loose wire inside the base module, but it would be a bugger, let alone a fire code regulation, to try to strip the plastic away and attempt to reattach it.
Or just add it to the pile with Sophie and Raz Lyte for some future Frankenstein’s Monster-type art installation.
Right now I’m still putting in some hope for a power cord. In the interim, I foresee more library visitations and Google Docs.
At least the important stuff has been backed up, with the exception of some vignettes, which I could probably rewrite–they were only one or two pages. Also, there’s my phone with the QWERTY keypad. I could attempt to fill up its memory that way. I’ve already started doing that with other brain dribblings.
Yeah. This weekend had been too perfect before this afternoon–something needed to go horribly wrong. But I have to keep reminding myself, nothing important was lost, nothing crucial was destroyed.
Good Primus on Gallifrey, if this doesn’t call for rocky road ice cream, I don’t know what does.