My harddrive is pitifully small. Once upon a time, I wouldn't have thought of 40 gigs as pitifully small. After living with it for so long, and dividing those 40 gigs across three partitions, and letting said partitions become horribly disorganized, I now know better. I bought an 80 gig harddrive last week with money that could've been spent more wisely. Still not a huge drive, but adequate for my purposes, especially as I'm simply adding the new harddrive in next to the old harddrive--a convenient 120 gigabytes when all is said and done.
I am convinced that Murphy coined his law while upgrading his computer.
After spending a ridiculous amount of time to turn a new partition on my new harddrive into an exact copy of my C boot drive, my computer suddenly refuses to look in its direction at startup. Doesn't matter how many settings we screw with, or if we completely disconnect the old harddrive and then go into the BIOS to convince the computer to look at the new harddrive as the system drive. The computer has designated my old harddrive as the Magic System Boot Drive and
refuses to boot on anything other than its beloved.
So. At this point, it looks like I'll end up sorting through about 35 gigs of data to see what I want to preserve, backing it up somehow, reformating and repartitioning the entire thing into something simpler than the five partitions in the wrong spots that I have now.
I
Hate
Computers
~Paul
Welcome to Rubbish Bin #3. In my room, there is a small white trash can with the words “Rubbish Bin #2” on its side in permanent marker. Rubbish Bin #1 is a small decrepit blue notebook where I write stories, scenes, and half-baked ideas that never see the light of day.
Paul's Blog
Floating in cyberspace, you see the words "Rubbish Bin #3" hanging in neon purple letters. They melt and reform constantly.
There is a penguin here, walking around on the ice.
There is a pile of linguistic drivel on the floor.
Obvious Exits: North, East, Up, Panic
Floating in cyberspace, you see the words "Rubbish Bin #3" hanging in neon purple letters. They melt and reform constantly.
There is a penguin here, walking around on the ice.
There is a pile of linguistic drivel on the floor.
Obvious Exits: North, East, Up, Panic
About Me
- Paul
- Wonderland, United States
- Someone once told me I had an aura of cool intelligence. I wonder if he's ever looked at this blog.
5 comments:
Mostly fixed now. It's still divided into too many partitions... but I'll fix that later.
*Calls Bob and Dot to help Paul*
I don't understand 90% of what's going on (not unusual), but I'm glad it's coming along better....
See, I did understand, but am just confused on how what you are experiencing could be interpreted as hate. Don't you understand the fun of trying to figure out something that should be doing something different?
Seriously, though, I hate it when that happens.
My dad said something while we were working on it... he said that this sort of thing is really fun when it works--but there's always something that happens, something that's complete crap, that just shouldn't happen. Like taking ten minutes to get a single screw in.
(HLAKUHPOI*H #P(W*%YQ@#P(*%Y)(G*YHSDKG
NASIPOTHASEOTWEIHSIUTHSG STUPID SCREW!!!!!)
Try taking ten minutes to locate that specific screw in a wall full of bins.
"Okay, that's a 3/8ths diameter, inch and a quarter length grade 8 coarse threaded screw. Right over here..."
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