It would figure that on my 98th post, my laptop fried itself. I mean, the thing is toast. And I hate hubby's PC, though I love hubby for giving it up for me when I started to have withdrawal.
All my NaNo stuff's on my laptop.
All of my photos.
All of my work documents, including next week's Advent candle liturgy.
All of my user names & passwords (who seriously remembers their FacebookBloggerBookMoochPaperbackSwapGoodReadsGoogle info? That's what a keychain is for.)
All of my cool graphics are on my laptop.
All of my contacts.
My MobileMe, which doesn't like being accessed from said PC.
My Posse info.
My shopping cart with a baby shower present that isn't getting ordered.
I'm lost. I mean, beyond, beyond, beyond helpless. Hopeless. There's not enough Zoloft in the world to get me til tomorrow morning when I can go to the Mac store. ACK.