Time to admit I have a problem. I live for my computer.
While my winters are usually spent in a semi-hibernative mode, rousing when driven by need before snuggling back into a stupor on the couch at all odd hours (tonight, slept from somewheres after seven to after ten, but usually wake at around two in the morning), I’m finding that the first thing I reach for when I awake is my laptop.
Yeah, yeah, I can justify the use by necessary classwork, writing whims, creative impulse, etc., but it seems that wherever I sit, Del’s there with me. I’m actually surprised my computers last as long as they do since they’re on 24/7, and only get a rest via their slumber function to take advantage of my own internal time clock for a catnap between duties.
Actually, this realization of my own dependency makes me realize the necessity of getting back to fixing the computer (my dad’s) that we gave to a five-year old whose family couldn’t afford one, but the little boy (at the daycare in Bridgeport where my sister works) was so hot on computers that we wanted to make sure he had one. I’m severely traumatizing him, I’m sure, by not getting it back to him within a couple weeks. But then again, it looks to me like he or his mom wiped out the hard drive. I’ve got to look into it first thing in the morning.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology