I try not to be sentimental with my technology. I almost always become attached though. And then comes a time where ultimately it fails on me.
Sometimes it is because of pure age, or it has become obsolete. Other times, it is from my sheer user error that I kill a treasured member of my technology team.
The latter is what happened this week.
I left the cord for my ASUS laptop sitting at home in Alberta as I embarked on an Ontario trip. With the amount of time used to do each blog post, check in at the airport, etc etc, travelling without a cable just doesn’t work. I stopped by an airport shop and came up with what I thought was a suitable alternative.
Except it wasn’t.
After the 10 seconds of glorious power, there is a pop, and suddenly my treasured laptop was poof – gone. Black screen. Unresponsive boom enter the world of chaos.
(This is when you realize you shouldn’t have been cheap and pay the $$ a month for the back-up plan that can’t fail in the Cloud).
I just needed a minute. I was mad at myself. I knew better. I was mad the cord said it was compatible and it wasn’t.
I held out a small ray of hope as I took it to the computer repair store that the nerds would miraculous revive the beast. Half between chagrined and hopeful, I clinked my crossed finger with the repair lady, hoping for that miracle.
And I took a minute to think of all the writing I’ve done on that little machine.
My laptop is my constant companion. I carry it with me everywhere. We’ve Skyped, and HungOut in various locations throughout Alberta, British Columbia, the US and Ontario. I’ve downloaded wads of pictures – history of my family to it. I’ve blogged up almost every post from the last year on it. I’ve taken notes at Blissdom, ROAM, and I have Twitter Partied on it.
This little laptop represented all the best and worst of what I’ve got. It hummed along patiently while I wrote my heart out. When I threw that heartfelt post into drafts never to be seen again. When I shut my eyes and pressed post, because I was brave enough to speak in my own voice. The photos, oh the photos – the visual history of watching my kids grow up, the renovation projects, the post-worthy and not. That computer houses my life, our life and all our stories. The computer is my link to my family – who lives 3500 km away, or sometimes in Korea, as they come up on my screen in clear clarity as if they were sitting across from me.
I can’t say I was surprised when I got the call to say, yes, we retrieved the data, but no, the computer motherboard was no longer. I was thankful for my data. I was thankful that those little histories didn’t get wiped out. The downside was saying goodbye to an old trusted friend.
So, dear lappy… thanks for the hours of staying up late with me while I hammered your keys. Thanks for living in my crowded bag full of Nuks, random candy, business cards and receipts. Thanks for hours of music, videos and holding on to the visual history of my family. Thanks for holding my thoughts – even when unpopular and drafts that never get posted. I will miss you, as I start learning the seemingly confusing world of MacBook.
a passionate recreation coordinator by day, crazy farm mama of two by night. i live outdoors: growing my own food, camping and hiking with my border collie with two active kids in tow. when I’m not writing, I’m experimenting with recipes, and crafts – or anything else that might keep the monkeys entertained.