Crying over spilt whiskey lemonade

Regular readers may recall that my computer died a while back. The short(ish) version of what happened next is that the repair shop called to tell me to tell me the logic board was dead, and replacing it would cost almost as much as a new computer, and they'd happily sell me one, giving me $100 for the old one in trade. I know that sounds shady; I believe it was not, actually, any more than any attempt to make profit is.

 I couldn't afford either the repair or the new computer, so I went back to using my old computer that was too slow a year ago (iBook G4, if you're wondering) and gave the dead one to My Favorite Adirockian to see if he could do anything with it. The hope was that he'd be able to retrieve my data and then we could sell the computer on eBay, where comparable computers to mine with dead logic boards sell for enough to buy me a Chromebook.

My friend has had a really busy few weeks, so I've tried to put the computer out of my mind. Which is hard, because this iBook G4 is terrible, not just because it is slow and heavy and won't properly display modern web pages, but also because it won't hold a charge.

Day 14 of my month of gratitude: I am so, so grateful to have woken up to this text: "[bzzzzgrrrl]! Your computer is fixed!"

Whoa.