After four long days, my computer has come home. I can't believe how much I missed it. We've been spending some quiet time together, just the two of us, trying to get over the trauma of being apart.
It all started last week, when a strange message kept appearing on - and then freezing- my screen. I tried everything to get rid of it. But I had a bad feeling. I finally gave up and took it to the local computer doc.
As I waited in line, my laptop held gingerly in my arms, swaddled against the cold, I realized how much I used it - how much I needed it. But I'm not sure my attachment to the little machine registered with the man behind the counter.
"What is it?" I asked him anxiously, peering over his shoulder as he called up my browser. "Why does it keep doing that? What does that message mean? Is it okay?"
He shrugged. "I don't know - probably a virus." He sounded less than concerned.
But I was fuming. A virus? "A virus??" I said, my voice rising. "How can that be?? I use protection!!" Several customers turned my way. I composed myself and lowered my voice. "I mean, I have anti-virus software."
He shrugged again. "There's new viruses every day," he said. "It's hard to keep up."
He pried my fingers off the keys. "I'll have to check this in," he said. At my stricken look, his voice became a little gentler. "And it's Friday. Our techs don't work weekends. You can probably have it back ... Tuesday."
I stood there, mouth agape, as he wound my power cord and shut the lid. Tuesday. Four days. But ... How could I ...
I did, of course. And naturally, I'm being overly dramatic. It's just a machine, right? I mean, who cares?Who gets emotionally attached to a machine? Sheesh.
But maybe it can stay on my night table tonight. You know. just for tonight.