The wrong computer

I’m not trying to make excuses. I have dropped the ball on this blog for quite a bit. Although I really did try, there were many factors contributing to my absence here. One is that I just didn’t feel like writing for the sake of it. Another is that I was struggling with some big things in my life.

One of the strangest reasons I wasn’t writing here (or much of anywhere for that matter) is because in early February I lost my beloved laptop.

We’ll refer to her as Meggy.

Meggy came to me at a different time in my life. I was working full time as a designer, pregnant with my first child and anticipating needing to work from home from time to time. Before Meggy, I only had big desktop computers, and I intended keep those, but I needed Meggy to carry with me to and from work.

As fate would have it though (or practicality really) I ended up rarely using my desktop after Meggy came around because, believe it or not (no for real, some people don’t actually believe this until they’re tried it) it’s really hard to work in a home office when you’re also taking care of a baby. Meggy became my living room computer, that I could easily (sorta) maneuver while caring for a little one, long after I traded full time design for full time momming.

It is also where I started writing again. A lot. In the quiet hours I stole for myself, I found my voice, silenced by exhaustion, commercial work, and the shift in identity that come with becoming a mom. I wrote like I used to write back in college, except this time I was willing to put it out there, hear the criticism and get better. And I did.

Meggy was a wonderful computer, reliable, durable, easy to use and dusted with a coat of inspiration (and dust, and coffee drips). After six years I had no desire to upgrade. When her battery died in January, I bought a new battery.

Then disaster struck. One bleary eyed morning, I, sitting in my usual spot, set my coffee on top of Meggy’s closed monitor. The kids were getting ready for school, I was scrolling through twitter to see how politically enraged I could get before 8 am.

A the cat jumped up on the small laptop desk beside me, shaking my coffee from my full mug all over Meggy’s dented but still shiny black casing.

And into the computer.

Meggy had been warning me she was on her way out, with screen problems and occasional freeze ups but I wasn’t ready for that moment when I pushed her power button and she never turned on again.

Well, it seems that this story has been really weighing on me because it’s getting quite longer than I anticipated, but let me go on.

When we realized nothing could be done for Meggy, I though the solution was to simply upgrade to the newest version of her model. I thought it would be the same. With Meggy’s salvaged hard drive I was optimistic that I would overcome this loss.

But six years later version of Meggy was NOT the same. This insidious PC laptop has a mousepad that would highlight blocks of writing with the barest brush of my palm from a half inch above and delete it. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t sit right and it didn’t work like Meggy.

The truth was, I’m not sure what it was exactly that didn’t fit, but it just didn’t, although I was determined to make it work. I kept my resentment buried away, refusing to share my feelings in fear that it would hear me and become even more difficult to use.

Yes. I am a weirdo. Did you think otherwise?

But while I suffered in silence, my fingers over the keyboard slowed. When I would write out a chapter only to have to deleted by some imperceptible motion over the mousepad, I would call it then night instead of continuing on (after restoring it, I at least didn’t lose anything too important). Work wasn’t challenging because I was working out plot issues, it was challenging because I was actively fighting against my computer.

And eventually all but the necessary projects and edits dried up.

And that was rather depressing.

Now I’m not saying it was all that computers fault.

But it lacked the magic (or maybe just the user friendly design) that Meggy had. Writing is frustrating enough without fighting your medium for writing.

I think the muses know this.

So I think they’re entirely to blame for the glass of red wine that spilled over the keyboard of this six month old computer a few weeks ago. Yes, it was entirely them and not possibly my dumb ass who is still placing beverages beside my computer on a flimsy desk.

It was a loss. But at least I learned how to salvage a hard drive when Meggy died.

So, I bought something small, cheap and refurbished. It’s a different brand than Meggy. It doesn’t have a lot of the features I wasn’t using before. The keyboard is laid out differently. It has a little glitch. The screen is so much smaller than I’m used to.

And I love it.

It fits me better than that replacement for Meggy ever did.

And the words are flowing again.

So the moral of this story is… um…. blame your computer for your writers block.

Just make sure you have a whimsical story to back up your charges.

And get a spill proof cup if you’re going to put drinks next to your computer!