I so desperately love my little 12-inch Mac Powerbook. But I am not posting from it today. As of yesterday, whenever I try to access any internet-related applications, it provokes the spinning ball of death icon, and I am forced to do a hard shut down. I am going to the “Genius Bar” tomorrow to see what can be done, but I know the sad truth is that a lap-top generally has a life-span of two to three years, and I’ve had this one for about four years. I had it for the length of my first MFA, and the first year of this one… so I guess you could say I learned to write on that computer.
I’d like to think that it is trying to help my writing in other ways, by severely curtailing my internet related activities. But I am not unaware that even isolated spinning ball icons seldom bode well for longevity.
I don’t like the shiny-screened laptops I see at the Apple store, with their no click thumb pads. And I also feel guilty thinking about it. I have a tendency to vaguely anthropamorphize inanimate objects, and currently I entertain a paranoia that my laptop, which sits across the room, knows what I am typing here, that it knows I am contemplating its replacement before it is even gone.