It’s a great thing to have your own devices. Up to now I’ve had to share devices with others: the main computer, the tablet and, yes, though I had my own little laptop thanks to some Anglican nuns (yes, Anglican nuns) who freecycled one of theirs, it never connected to the internet in spite of sporting a neat little dongle. But it served me well for several years and was a permanent reminder of the fact that when I need something it will come. It was far from perfect but in the end it did everything I really required of it and for five years it produced short stories, novels and the final drafts of poems – until one day a series of power cuts (don’t ask) caused it to have a nervous breakdown and chop up all my documents into tiny pieces before scattering them to the winds.
Here’s the post from when I first got it:
My poor old friend had reached the end of its useful life. So for a while it was back to the shared computer. Now, there’s something about a shared computer that does not sit well with me. Maybe it’s because I’m a control freak or maybe it’s the modern equivalent of the ‘room of one’s own’ in that I need to inhabit that cyberspace alone. So: I have a problem. Enter a friend bearing a laptop which he had replaced with a shiny new computer. Deep joy.
Now I have my cyber-room of my own where no-one hovers waiting to get in, no-one interferes with my icons and I don’t have to worry about things getting changed around or deleted. It feels very powerful, having your own space. It’s not about greed or individualism, it’s more like, say, having a table where you can leave your work and not have to clear away in time for dinner.
So that’s me, this morning. Knowing that things come when you need them.