There is no possible resurrection. It's over.
Now I need to save up money to get a new one. My baby's dead. Gone. With everything she had on her. At least 10 stories that I honestly would probably never get around to finishing. But they're mine. I can dream that the muse will come back if I want to!
Music, pictures, all gone.
It's actually a little disturbing how genuinely sad I am over the death of what is basically an electronic appliance. Her name was CiCi. I want her back.
Now I'm at the library until I can save up a few hundred bucks for a new one. This Sucks.