Wrecked

Although not without its high points, this was a real shambles of a weekend. Part of it is my fault for abusing my sleep schedule in full awareness of the costs, and part is just unforeseeable ugliness, chiefly in the form of malware.

The first signs we were infected appeared early last week. Every time we attempted to get rid of it, we discovered it was more malignant than we'd previously suspected. Then on Saturday morning I attempted to follow some advice online and use a specialised free product called "tdsskiller" to remove the rootkill which had resisted the effects of at least two full-fledged security suites and three anti-malware programmes. The end result was that the OS would not come back for love or for money until--desperate--we elected to restore factory settings.

At least that got rid of the problem, right? Yes, along with our Internet connectivity. monshu spent a full six hours on the line with AT&T (not to mention $50 and whatever the new modem he ordered costs) in order to get that back. So far, so good--but I've never been so chary about installing such ultratrustworthy products as Google Chrome before.

It's weird to think that only a couple days ago we were chatting blithely about what we could cross off our Christmas readiness list this weekend. The Old Man did managed to string a few lights, but no cards or invitations got sent, no presents ordered, no tree acquired, nothing else but a small batch of ginger snaps that I baked for last night's game night.

At first, I was worried I wouldn't even be able to enjoy that, but as usual I perked up once the gameplay got underway. But I've been coming to these for almost a year now and the tensions are starting to get unignorable. I ended up accepting a ride from one of my favourite attendees so I could play agony aunt while he opened up to me (in the most undramatic way imaginable) about his efforts to undo the effects of a decade without a social life and find friends--hopefully a boyfriend among them. One of the candidates was one of my other favourite attendees, whose engaged in doing much the same--only with addition of serious social anxieties. It was painful to watch close up as they attempted to draw nearer, only for each to leave thinking he had offended and alienated the other.

And while I was happy to lend an ear (and often a mouth), I was less thrilled about another day of addledness and lethargy. Why has my body become so very unforgiving about the hours I choose to sleep? I felt twice as much in monshu's debt today not just for what he was doing but guilty in the knowledge that there was no way I could have done it successfully. The most help I could be was to give him a break by holding the phone to my ear for a half hour while they called the second or third of four representatives.

The high points? I rewarded monshu for his heroic efforts on Saturday by taking him out for dinner at Lady Gregory's on Clark. He had a burger, I had shepherd's pie and a snakebite, and we both left very satisfied despite the crowdedness and din. And I finished reading both Laxdæla saga and Jack Maggs, which I suppose means I have more Turgenev in my near future. But before that, there's everything left to do that didn't get done. *sigh*