Not the Colombo mystery
Jun. 19th, 2006 01:23 pmSo, after watching "Poseidon" I scampered back home for a mini-braai my folks have decided to initiate. My hunger satisfied I managed to get to the computer before my parents could appropriate it for games. (I swear, on weekends I barely touch the PC).
Plotting heavily in Anthemion story lines (a writing software tool) I noticed a grinding noise coming from the vicinity of my computer. That is it, I decided, my CD writer had finally konked out having heard similar noises from it before. I removed the CD and for a moment the noise seemed to have subsided. I sighed in anticipation of getting another DVD writer, a DUAL Layer this time, then I heard the noise again. Horrified, I stared at my beloved DVD writer which currently had "Prison Break" in, quitting the minimized Power DVD application I ejected the suspect DVD examining it for any scratches. None were to be found.
Puzzled I closed the DVD writer, a nagging nauseating sensation originating in the pitt of my stomach. Could that be? Is this truly my Hard Drive slowly laying down it's disc operations? Would I need to get another one in a hurry or revert to use for a short timeone of my older hard drives? I ran the scandisc tool with slightly trembling fingers navigating my mouse. The check came back clean so I risked a lengthy defragmentation of my drive, watching the display and listening to the annoying grinding noise that stopped abating and carried on regardless of the progress shown on my monitor. The defrag did not finish as my frayed patience decided to cancel it and investigate the problem at the source.
This more drastic action involved the search for my trusty compound Compaq screwdriver and moving the heavy workstation desk away from the wall as to get the space for my hand to disconnect the wires. With anticipation of doom and maybe blown motherboard caps I shutdown my PC. Disconnecting the power and starting to push the computer from the workstation desk, that is when I heard it again, the hoarse grinding noise sounding like every piece of machinery dying down as the cataclysm descends upon us. I glanced directly above me to find the old lounge clock that my mother decided to put above my workstation, clicking away noisily as the seconds' hands moved within the minute of my observation of the wall clock.
Aargh!
The clock is being moved today to another location.