Stupid giant laptop from the mothership. See, last year, I ordered a svelte ultrabook thing then I handed in my old laptop. They did the magic and handed me something back the size and weight of a small American pickup truck. Erm, that's not what I put the tick next to on my requisition, say I. Oh we've run out of those, says he. Can you get me one? Not till next year, they're not getting any more. Anyway, I've been dragging it around ever since and hating it more and more by the day. More so as since I have learned that there's a secret pathway to getting a MacBook. So I could have got one of those. I am a seething bathtub of bile.
Anyway, that's an historical grumble, my contemporary grumble is that I fumbled and dropped the behemoth this morning, thus distressing further my distressed hardwood floor. We didn't make the mistake in this house of having a nice pristine wood floor and then scratching, gouging, and denting it (bike locks are superb), this came ready battered and factory engineered rustic. Now more so.
Worst still, it didn't break. Just the damn bluetooth dongle. Which is mine (because the mothership decided to save 4p per laptop by not having a bluetooth chip). Now I have to use the touchpad and once you're used to an Appley one, it's a tearsome business. Fucking cursor is running around like ant on amphetamines.