Bloody Apple bloody argh

As I mentioned previously, my little iBook’s screen suddenly went black and refused to respond a few weeks ago. I finally got my act together to book an appointment, take it to [the Temple Of Apple on Regent Street][1] on a long drizzly bus ride and hang around waiting for a bit on their hard wooden bench.

Predictably, when turned on in front of the repair person, the screen came on as if nothing had ever happened to it. “Er,” I said. “It wasn’t doing that last week.” Instead of dismissing me as some idiot the chap tried to test it with an external monitor, which it didn’t respond to.

“Something wrong with the graphics card,” he said. “We can take it in, it’ll be about ten working days before you get it back” (which would mean I wouldn’t have it over Christmas, no portable computing at all, I can’t manage that). And like the idiot that he charitably assumed I wasn’t I said “okay, well, the screen seems to be working again, I’ll take it now and bring it back after Christmas”. Cue an even longer drizzly bus ride and a bit of a drizzly walk back home.

You know what’s coming, don’t you? I turned it on just now and did the screen come on? Did it bollocks. So I’m going to have to book another appointment tomorrow to take the thing back in and leave it there this time. Bastard thing. All my “oh isn’t it cute” instincts go right out the window as soon as something like this happens. I’d make a terrible mother.