My PC is in the shop for maintenance. There were issues involving files disappearing but thankfully no writing files have been jeopardized. So my wife, knowing what the computer means to me and my writing and networking efforts, graciously suggested bringing her laptop up to my office for the time being (maybe four days).
Okay, it’s still a computer, but it’s not MY computer. I don’t use a laptop generally and am not 100% comfortable. It’s on the desk and not in the cubby where my PC goes. And there is the matter of the files and having to transfer things from my USB drive to the laptop to work and then loading the saved files back on and…
I remember years ago when it was a matter of 3.5″ floppy discs and just storing those somewhere. Or the typewriter days when you “printed” everything because that was how you saved things. I’ve gotten so “digital” that I have to be my own IT guy just to do what I want to do which is WRITE. (Notice the IT is right smack dab in the middle of the word WRITE.)
I’m feeling like some sort of techno-conspiracy-theorist burdened by the ever-increasing knowledge we knowledge we are required to stuff into our brains merely to allow that smaller creative portion an opportunity to escape and perhaps grow into something entertaining or thought-provoking or evocative.
I hate to say it but maybe I should suggest to my wife that she give me some honey-dos for the next couple of days.