‘We’re on death watch,’ he said.
‘That doesn’t sound good.’
Last week around the same time as the release of the new iPhone 5S, my relic of a Macbook tried to ‘leave this world’ seven times while I was doing my best work ever (a.k.a. surfing celebrity blogs). Fortunately I managed to revive it seven times. I also have my data saved externally but according to my husband, I’m only buying time. Instead of rejoicing at the prospect of new computer, this slow demise is making me regret.
I think of all the times I should have taken my computer out for coffee, profited from the portability. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to haphazardly toss this delicate device on the bed or force it to stream House of Cards while I soaked in a hot, steamy bath. I should have been more judicious about keeping the fan from constantly running on high and a plate instead of the keyboard would have been better for my sandwich. I don’t regret ignoring the constant upgrades though, still suspicious about requiring so many.
I’ll be sad to say good-bye. Like my twenty-year-old car, Ripley, I find it hard to let items go. It would help if I stopped naming them. My computer is Mordecai. After my favorite author. Alas, he’s also dead.