As I was curled up in my pink blanket on my bed, checking tomorrow’s weather, editing my presentation for tomorrow, replying to an email, and updating my to-do list for FRIDAY, my home phone rang.
I put my laptop aside, in a very calm matter, to pick up the phone.
I walked toward the sound of the annoying ring tune, which I MUST change ASAP, still in a very calm manner. The sound was coming from somewhere between my bed and my desk.
Four rings later, I started to lose my patience, and started flipping everything up-side- down, in search for my wireless phone handset. It was not under the 3 decorative pillows, not under my cover, not under my pile of papers on the desk. I know it is my father who is calling for his daily check up, and to make sure we are alive and sound. It is okay if I miss it, I can always call back.
Back to my telephone, I gave up, and decided to check in one last place, under my bed. There it was, all the way next to the wall. Determinant to get hold of the telephone, I squished myself under the bed to get hold of the phone. As I finally got my hand on it, the ringing stopped, and within the split of a second, my cell phone was ringing (classic). AHHH, damn it baba is fast at doing this.
At this point, I tried to quickly pull myself out, get up, and reach for the phone on the night lamp, within 3 seconds. My plan did not consider the wiring festival going on on my bed. I had my phone charger connected, head phones, and laptop charger. The last one was hanging too low, that it caught up with my big hair bun. My hair has not been my friend lately. Too frustrated to deal with its shortness around my face, I pull it all up in a bun on top of my head. A bun big enough to get caught in the wiring job, as I was swinging my head away toward my cell phone, specifically my hair was caught in my laptop’s wire. If this description was graphic enough for you, you would guess by now what happens next. My LAPTOP was thrown on the ground. I was speechless. My cell phone stopped ringing (another classic moment).
What good is my phone with its cool camera if my laptop, God forbids, is broken now. I broke the silence, and grabbed my laptop, crossed my legs, and with wide open eyed I opened it as it was slammed (closed) when it fell off the bed.
I pressed the power button, and boy. Was I glad to hear the Windows tune again! Not only that, but my files were still all running, no lost data. I never loved my old dusty laptop as much I do now.
This experience (almost losing my laptop) reminded me of how dependent I am on this machine, and how it deserves to be named after all these times of service. No. I don’t think I will go this far. I will stick to the promise of unconditional love, and a promise to take more care of it. Oh, and to be a more loyal PC user and stop thinking about considering switching to a slim Mac notebook.
Do you have a name for your laptop? I know some people do!
