Friday we handed over a good chunk of money and bought a new mac, and almost suffered too much guilt over the money to enjoy the new toy–but enjoy I did. And will again, one presumes. I took the new mac and the old to the apple store to have them transfer things I don’t know how to deal with and after I answered questions and filled out a form, they took both my macs away! Shock! I had no idea they’d separate us. My electronic world, my novels, my photos, my novels, my music, my novels, in the hands of apple geniuses, which did not comfort me.
Of course I know writing can be done with a pen. Of course I know that life is lived outside a computer screen. Of course I know that I will get my macs back. Of course. And didn’t I, just the other day–Friday, in fact–attempt to tell the world about an artist who made art from prison scraps? Sigh…
Even writing this, I borrowed a laptop from a friend. Oh, the way we entwine these things into our lives. To be fair, I had to borrow a computer from somebody because I was being paid to do some editing work and the deadline was tonight. “The apple boy took my baby” was not going to wash as an excuse to a grad student stressing out about her dissertation.
But as my husband said, “Now you can get some art done. Read. You know, not work.”