Mourning and Moving on [edited]

I would never believed if you told me 3 years ago that in on the 10th September 2010 21:08 I would be laying in a double bed with a brand freakin' new laptop while watching Brittish TV in my own room in LONDON. I would seriously laughed my head off, yeah right. But I am actually and I it feels a little bit unreal. It's a little bit too good.

So let's recap the last 2 days I've been away. Wednesday morning I started with the moving. Packed as much as I could and started my lord-of-the-rings-long journey to the new house, a journey which I would do not less than 4 times that day. Luckily one of my friends could help me. It was absolutely exhausting, dragging and lifitng the suitcase and bags. By the end of the day I had moved practically all of my stuff except the guitar and a few things.

It felt absolutely great to move into the house, into the huge room, into a place with people I knew. The world was a happy place until in the evening I wanted to talk to my family to tell them everything was fine and stuff. I plug in the laptop push the start button. Nothing. Pushes it again. Nothing. WHAAT?!

As I've mourned and moved on (herk, even bought a new laptop), the circumstances are still too weird not to think about them. The night before I was using the computer as normal (for example watching the first episode of Sherlock, which is awesome btw) and I turned it off. The next day I moved it here to the house. What is wrong?! My friend and I brainstormed numerous theories from different electricity to broken adapter. The next thing I was all over Argos website and reserved a new laptop.

I bought a new freaking laptop today and I feel so freaking guilty. I feel like that slutty widow who hooks up with her late husband's best friend at his funeral, you know.

My new lover.

Yours sincerely,
Tiffany