Damn it!

So now I can't use Photoshop! I finally settled in to do a re-install. First I did what turned out to be a pseudo-install, which was quick and didn't change anything. So then I read the instructions in the read-me file, deleted files, emptied trash, and tried again. This time it took a long time and seemed to be going very well until the very end of disk 4, when something did a flibbertygibbet, flashing error messages and swallowing them like minnows. I figured, well, that was just in one of those "Creative Suite" programs I never use anyhow but greedily install as if I might someday become a completely different person. Nope. Photoshop crashed as soon as I tried to open an image file. Bummer. When I work up the frustration tolerance quotient again, I'll re-try but only install Photoshop. Hah. It'll never work. I really don't want to face a trip to Tempe to buy a more recent version, which I'd love to have, but facing the broiling sun, the long walk from parking to the student discounted store, the risk of having my outdated student ID rejected and therefore having walked in the sun for nothing, or the expense if successful -- all that is daunting. But maybe if I go tomorrow, before fall semester actually starts, maybe I can still use the ID. Heavy, all this decision-making.

Meanwhile I'm loafing (reading) a lot and occasionally cleaning some corner of the house in preparation for house-shoppers. If I only do a little bit at a time, I can just barely stand it. Yesterday I was in a funk, so I went to a tiny meeting of the Glendale Poets at the library. That was fun, perked me up a lot. The leader is a sweet missionary-type lady about my age who patters on and on, kinda gets on my nerves. The cut in library hours has required her to change the monthly meeting time, the prolonged details of which I heard three times as people kept coming in late. Then we read some poems (the fun part). There were only five of us, and happily nobody brought anything to write with, so we didn't do any writing exercises. (I hate writing exercises. I wanna be left alone when I write.) It was the first time I'd attended, and I said I'd come back, but I may have been lying.