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| by Wonderlane Flickr.com |
My husband thought I was nuts. "Open your new computer yet today?" He would ask when he got home from work.
Yesterday, he was home and said, "Why are you using your old computer if your new one is out of the box?"
No, he's not a writer. I hope that before I explain myself most of you are nodding along with me and completely understand why--It. Was. So. Hard.
I write everything on my laptop. I tried to write a dream I had by hand the other night, and my handwriting is so bad, I can't even read it. All my files, photos, saved URLs, novels, presentations, and more are on that old computer. Yes, I have an external hard drive. Yes, I turn it on and back-up my files. Yes, I even figured out this morning how to transfer them to my new computer--with ease.
But still. . .
My new computer has a different keyboard. My fingers hit the keys differently. My wrists are actually turned in a different way. It's harder to find stuff on this computer right now--can you say NEW Microsoft Word program and WINDOWS 8?
I don't want to take the time away from my work and creativity to learn all this new stuff. Okay, so I am whining.
Look, I knew it was bad yesterday when my 3-year-old daughter said to me, "I can make your new computer work."
I said, "Don't touch it."
She went over there with some toy she had, waved it around, and she said, "All you do is say the magic words: Hocus Pocus." This morning, she got on her pretend phone and said, "Hello? My mom needs help."
Today, I made an effort to get enough stuff going on this new laptop that I could type this blog post, which I am doing now. And I guess it's going okay--although you might think--what is this drivel she's writing?
Writers are quirky. We have writing rituals. (Read this article about Writing Rituals here on WOW!). I guess I have a bond or weird connection or something with my old laptop, and I'm sure eventually I will feel the same way about this one. But for now, I'm in a bit of a shock/mourning/grieving period. Maybe I'll wear black to the park with my daughter today. . .
Okay, let me hear it--how are you quirky?
