We were supposed to be somewhere else. We should be there. We should not be here. But we are here and I am not happy about it. Of course, there is another computer — my computer. It has a ton of expensive software on it Garry will never use, but I will use.
Garry’s version of Chrome has no TRASH folder. None. Not. Any. Trash folder. I went looking for it. Because doesn’t everything have a trash folder? I mean, seriously, doesn’t everything come with trash?
You don’t want it? In it goes to the trash. But his doesn’t have one and nothing I did would help. Nothing. At. All.
My family is snarling at each other.
Expectation? We were supposed to be away. Far away. Having fun. Instead, we are here, trying to figure out why Garry’s Gmail account has no trash. And why his computer up and died for no reason.
I’m trying to feel good about this but I am not succeeding. Bah. Humbug. HUMBUG.
I’m sure I’ll be in a better mental space tomorrow but as for today? Humbug, I cry. Double that. Double humbug.