Imploding laptops and a fortnight of duelling

So the other day my laptop imploded. We knew it was coming, sort of. The little plastic bits on the back that kept the lid up had snapped off and so the wires leading from the screen to the base were exposed and rubbing. It was really only a matter of time before it died.
Of course, knowing it was coming didn't inspire me to do anything about being able to rescue all my vital information once it DID happen. Oh nooooo. One morning I turned my laptop on and got the grey fuzzy screen of death. So I hauled out the netbook that came free with my blackberry that I tried to sell but that no one wanted to buy. And I quickly learned WHY no one wanted to buy it. I hate it. It has teeny tiny keys on a keyboard clearly designed for pixies, not real human beings, the auto-updates keep messing with my internet settings, the sound quality is worse than awful, and the right click on the mouse stopped working after two days. Awesome. I have provided above some evidence of the tinyness of the netbook, to give you a better idea of my pain. I dont have large hands, you guys. My ring size is H/I (please to admire the sparkly on my ring finger, plz)
BUT. BUT. At least I still have something. The internet is my therapy, my friend, and my link to the outside world on the days when I can't interract with it properly. Without it, I'd pretty much be lost. So fr now I hold a grudging truce with the Netbook of Death and we shake hands, not as friends, but not as foes either.

So, Mr A's company offered him a pretty sweet deal to have some time off, and we'd been having ishoo's within our marriage and with my health and with A.B too, so he jumped at the chance. We're on Friday of the first week and it's been nice. Stressful at times, he plays too much playstation and doesn't take enough initiative with things that need to get done, but still, it's good. We are bickering a lot more but also spending more quality time together and being more loving. Ahhh. Sweet. He's alright really, sometimes. Now if only he'd put the playstation controller down and take the fucking bins out on time, we'd be in business.