My parents’ child
I left my laptop charger cord in the Solvang hotel, plugged in under the desk. Ugh. It’s times like this that convinces me I really am my parents’ kid. They do plenty of absentminded stuff like this.
Thankfully, my marvelous roommate (secret codename: Dani) has a mac and is nice enough to let me borrow her charger. God bless good roommates. =P
I didn’t even realize my charger was missing until my computer decided it was time to die, but I just about freaked when I realized what I’d done. Flew out of the room and called my parents to get the number of the hotel, called the hotel and just about begged the poor guy who answered to send it to me ASAP.
I didn’t even need to beg, though. He was awfully nice about it, so I should be getting my cord back on Wednesday. When I called, he had already called my home number and left a message about my cord. Thank goodness for good people.
I’ve had a blissfully productive day despite all that, though. Got to hang out with my family some more before they headed back down south to home-sweet-home, and although I haven’t finished any homework yet, I did send out one of my short stories to two different literary mags. Yess!
Happy Easter, everyone.
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