Storm and Thunder (and Drunk)

My travel alarm clock died last night. In one of those bizarre moments when I foretell stupid things, yesterday I thought, "This has lasted me since St. Petersburg [fall of 2007]. I wonder when its batteries will die." And then they did.

So I bought a four-pack of Duracell batteries in an underground crosswalk (perekhod). Unlike the amazon.com listing, however, these babies cost me 140 rubles (almost $5). Oh, price inflation.

I write underneath a dark cloud that I pretend is part of the Icelandic volcano's fall-out but is likely just Moscow smog.

My computer is – quite literally – falling apart before my eyes. A screw fell onto the desk at the archive on Wednesday. It's one of many holding the bottom of the casing to the top; as of now, it's not caused any major malfunctions or had any ramifications. I keep begging it

Please. Please. Please just wait until I’m back in the US. Please survive these last months, these last few days. You can make it help you get down.

Then I - [with surreptitious glances to the side, and whispering] - will buy a Mac.

Edit: And the batteries don't even work. I must become a child of the twenty-first century and use my cell phone as an alarm clock...