The brain of my poor pc is infected by what my internet provider and the pc specialist say is one of the worst replicating viruses around. I'm typing to you from my brother's system to let you know I'm anxiously awaiting the results in the bosom of my family - not even a five minute visitation every hour to my adopted daughter as she struggles to survive under the pc surgeon's skilled hands.
I'm stunned by the sadness and fear I feel as I pace the floor in anticipation of the outcome. Isn't it amazing how dependent we all are on our favorite communication system? I stagger into my office with my cup of tea every morning and stare at the empty space where usually with the push of a button the whole world comes right to my door and gently wakes me up every day. My office feels empty in the hush of the missing hum and the clicking of keys.
Here's praying the pc surgeon can work another miracle and save my baby.
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