In the house that Jack, err…Sven built.
I had two hour nap today, and it’s all Sven’s fault. Sven is an 18-year old German boy, and if he hadn’t kept me up until three in the morning then I might not have crashed into bed at 4 pm today and woken just an hour before Maghrib. That was the nap I took to make up for the sleep that I missed last night due to the computer infected with the Sasser worm that Sven built.
This afternoon, my sleepy self and I sat with a computer guy for two and a half hours trying to undo the damage. The computer guy politely said, “You should be more careful about what you download, there are a lot of dangerous viruses and worms about these days.” I wanted to tell him that this was the worm that Sven built, not me, but I didn’t thing he’d buy it, so I hung my head in shame.
This evening my father walked into the dining room and said, “Beta, is this some new fashion to wear your clothes so wrinkled?” I wanted to say that was Sven’s fault too, because if he hadn’t created the worm that infected the computer that kept me up all night that made me sleep in and wake up a mess then I wouldn’t have been this wrinkly. I couldn’t say that, so I just said, “Sorry dad, I slept in my clothes.”
After lunch I made horrible coffee, and that too was Sven’s fault. If he hadn’t messed up my computer and stressed me out about all the files I hadn’t backed up then I wouldn’t be so preoccupied that I’d forget to put sugar in the cup. After I got home from work I parked the car crooked due to haste and frustration, and if someone hits the tail-end that’s poking out just slightly past the driveway then that will be Sven’s fault too. *nods* I know that no one understands how it’s all Sven’s fault, but I tell you, if I ever get my hands on Sven I’m gonna wring the skinny little neck attached to the malicious head that contained the brain that wrote the code for the worm that Sven built.