Breathe and reboot.

Last night, the unthinkable happened.

My computer fell to the floor from its precarious perch on the narrow arm of my futon and now I'm waiting with baited breath to see if it finally dies. I mean, I hope it doesn't, but I've lost other electronics in a similar fashion in the past, so there's kind of a precedent set in my life for this sort of thing.

One might wonder what my trusty laptop was doing balancing on the thin wooden arm of a futon, and the answer is simple: I was trying to obtain a wireless Internet signal from my downstairs neighbors and that just happened to be the only place in the apartment where I can actually find a signal. Go figure. During that time, while sitting with legs crossed on the couch, a half-empty (or maybe depending on your philosophical slant, a half-full) bottle of Poland Spring in my hand, I felt the faintest tickle on my back, which I immediately presumed was a spider and lashed around in defiance in an attempt to kill said arachnid. Apparently, in so doing, I knocked over my computer. Who didn't see that one coming?

Did I mention there was no spider?

So here I am, sitting at my desk at work wondering if I should compulsively save everything I'm writing in the event that my computer crashes. It is running a bit slow today, but I can't tell if it's any slower than usual.

Every time I click on a webpage or attempt to access my email account and I see the "red rainbow wheel of death," I have a minor anxiety attack. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until my page finally loads and I can let it out and breathe again.

I guess Carrie Bradshaw summed it up best in that Sex and the City episode: "After all, computers crash, people die, relationships fall apart. The best we can do is breathe and reboot."