My computer is dead. The mother board is bad. The good news is that I am able to retrieve any data I need. The bad news is my computer is dead. I am once again on my husband's computer. I wish I had enough money to go out and buy a new one, but that is not the case. I need a computer. I feel like I must be an idiot or something because I cannot write on this machine. The thought of trying to compose one of my stories on a machine that is not mine causes some anxiety. The keyboard is different. It's a Mac. Nothing against Macs, but I do prefer my PC. I know my machine. I worked fine when the keys got stuck. I worked fine with the backspace and the x keys missing. I was able to compose, search, get e-mail and interact with my friends. I can do some of that with this one, but not with the ease of the other When the hubby comes home, he wants his machine, as is his right.
I am surprised on how dependent I have become. I am surprised I just don't take my paper and pen into the kitchen, sit down at the table and write. I used to to do it all the time, but now that I don't have a computer to save it to, I am lost. It is weird and I don't like it. Why don't I buy myself a new computer you ask? Well we all suffer a bit in today's economy. I can't just go out and buy myself a new computer, so I am diligently saving my money and hopefully by my birthday I can buy myself a new present. A shiny new computer. Enough whining for today. :-)
I am off to do stuff, and hopefully work on my new project. A short story of being bold.