My Compaq Mini netbook was sitting on the kitchen counter behind me while I poured the kids each a cup of milk. I turned around in time to see Buzz dangling it’s slim frame precariously over the edge. The next few seconds were in excruciatingly slow motion.
“NOOOOOOO!”, I lunged not quick enough. It fell with a thud to the floor.
My life flashed before my eyes as Buzz darted from the room in a panic. This netbook was my gift from J this past Christmas. Since then, we’ve been inseparable. I write on it. I read on it. It calms me down during rough afternoons and comforts me on long days. It helps me feel connected. Thanks to twitter and the comments left here, both of which I check from my netbook, I don’t feel so much like the lone adult in a child’s world. It keeps me sane. It’s my precious. I would be lost without it.
It can’t be broken. What would I do if it’s broken? Oh my God, WHAT WOULD I DO?
A thin piece on the back, which I assume was important, had come undone so I immediately pieced it back together again a la Humpty Dumpty. I sat it back on the counter and prayed. “Please turn on. Please turn on. Please turn on. I swear I’ll be good, just PLEASE TURN ON.”
I flipped it to it’s on position and waited. It wasn’t making any funny sounds, that’s a good sign I hoped. Then, I saw the beautiful blue light, the signal of life, and my heart did a happy dance. Start Windows normally?, it asked. Oh yes, please.