Last week, my computer was out of commission for about four days. It wasn’t a very long time and I was able to access everything I needed using either Emily’s computer (Thanks El!) or my iPod. So there was no real first world hardship involved and I was able to do pretty much everything that I was able to do before my computer decided to lose its marbles.
That didn’t change the fact that I felt a lot better after I had gotten my computer back. It’s a mix of a wide variety of different emotions. Partly it’s just a comfort thing. I like to write in the same spot, on the same surface, using the same interface. It’s just a matter of comfort and familiarity.
There’s also the matter that my computer is, in subtle and overt ways, thoroughly integrated into my life. Computer’s aren’t like, say, televisions or iPods or other pieces of technology. We talk to our friends through them. We bank through them. We buy through them. We look up facts through them. We maintain a large part of our lives through this one piece of tech. And when mine went haywire I felt…diminished.
It’s not the easiest feeling to explain, but I felt like I do before I have my morning coffee or when I don’t get enough sleep and all the cylinders aren’t firing. It was only a feeling I noticed after I got my computer back and I was relieved and happy and felt back in control of things again.
Which is a disturbing idea to me, that I could become so dependent on something that could be eradicated by a spilled sweet iced tea. I wish I didn’t need it for so much (writing, publishing, banking), just so I could rely on it less. And now, more than ever, I’m starting to rely on it more. It’s actually earned me money (hey, you should buy my book). And at some point, I’d like to completely earn a living off of it.
So, for better or for worse, I’m tied to this extremely fragile, not so durable, time wasting box.