My computer is almost two years old. I like it. I bought it with money I earned through freelance writing, which was a big thing for me – making enough money through writing to buy a big ticket item... I also bought my desk, so I basically funded my writing through my writing. I know this might seem insignificant to some people, but I have been a stay at home mom since I was twenty four... I was in fiction writing courses for the year prior to having my daughter, so my last paycheck, with my own little name on it, on any regular basis prior to my little writing money was when I was twenty three years old... that’s flippin’ eons ago... and it kind of wears on you to have so much responsibility and yet have such diminished freedom.
The keyboard I use is the one that came with the computer... I bought a separate printer and flat screen monitor, but the keyboard, I didn’t really care... just whatever’s clever, it wasn’t a big deal.
Now, I type quite a lot. Don’t we all? More so than non-writers anyway, and most of the people in my real world are non-writers. So the letters have worn off some of the oft-used keys on this keyboard... Personally I think it’s because it’s a cheap one... either that or the oil in my skin is acidic... but, if you sat down at my keyboard, you’d notice that A, S, D, E, L, N, M, C, and R are missing... K is about half gone... the arrow keys are hanging on by a thread.
I learned how to type when I was nine. I don’t look at the damn keys. Not even when I’m using the numbers... I barely glance at them ever, to be honest, so this absence of the alphabet troubles me not at all.
My husband sat down at my computer the other day and got so frustrated after two minutes he had to walk away. Couldn’t even compose a small response email. Looked at me like I was a nitwit to keep such a broken down keyboard. Even offered to get me a new one, which I declined.
My daughter asked to use my computer to work on a site they recommend at school... She’s a little more hard-headed than the husband type person, it took her five minutes to get frustrated enough to vacate the desk. The boys won’t even touch it. Mom’s computer is a broken down mess. They want the one in the family room... which means they have to share it with dad, or more accurately, dad has to wait until they’re busy with homework or in bed to check his football scores and surf for porn.
So, as I sit here running my acidic fingers across my broken down little keyboard, I can’t help but smile. How long do you think it’ll take him to figure out why I won’t buy a better keyboard? I’m thinking I can milk the ‘I’m sentimental... and I bought it myself’ thing for a while longer... though you’d think he’d know I’m not sentimental after 11 years of marriage... ah well, that’s what he gets for not paying attention.