No, it's not back yet. The repair shop is getting to know me; I barely have to identify myself and they promise to call me back later with a status report. They're waiting for a new hard drive (and keyboard) to arrive; allegedly they had to order it. I don't know how the country's central Apple repair shop runs out of hard drives, but I can probably last another day before going mad.
Maybe. Windows 2000 is a wholly new experience of things popping up without obvious cause or explanation. I'm not talking pop-up windows from the web browser (I turned them off); I mean updaters and scanners and networking things and miscellaneous other tools that just start running, go for a while, and eventually either crash or go away on their own. It's frazzling my nerves. That's on top of the keyboard putting a delete key adjacent to left-arrow, and ``Home'' next to backspace, making editing an adventure of soaring unpredictably through documents.
The most surprising thing of all this is how quiet my office seems. Given how few CDs and how narrow a range of musical experience I have I thought I ran a quiet place, but I've had no iTunes and no Internet radio for a week plus now and it's just weird not having something -- Fibber McGee and Molly, Inner Sanctum, Beatles-a-rama, anything -- in the background.
Trivia: Erasmus Darwin grew sufficiently fat he had a semi-circle cut in his table to fit at dinner. Source: The Lunar Men, Jenny Uglow.
Currently Reading: The Punic Wars, Brian Caven. I'd probably take this more seriously if all the players in that era didn't have Marx Brothers Movie Character names. I mean, ``P. Cornelius Scipio''? (If I'm not grossly mistaken the name would be pronounced ``skippy-o'', mind.) How can you not see Groucho playing him?