not happy

Suspicious. This new computer configuration - my hard drive, Evil Landlord's motherboard et al - has developed a worrying tendency to turn itself on overnight, or while I'm out during the day. If I find it's been nosing around internet porn in my absence, we shall have Words. (Apart from anything else, as stv points out, this adds a new, worrying dimension to the phrase "turns itself on").

Somewhat dozy couple of days, I have an epic headache trying to manifest, which is only partially working because I'm valiantly beating it back with Drugs, TM. Also, minor depression because I'm pretty sure the young actor who was murdered in Cape Town a few days ago was an ex-student of mine. I've always had a soft spot for drama students, they tend to be interesting, flamboyant and in need of patience and understanding because the damned drama department demands a hundred percent of their time and energy, wantonly assuming that any other courses for which they happen to be registered are more of an inexplicable error in taste than anything else. He was a particularly nice lad. I don't believe in hell, but I am willing to allow its specific existence so that the bastards who left him naked in a field with a bullet wound in his head burn in it eternally.