My computer told me last week that she was tired. She said, "Listen, I don't feel like leaving home so much. I go out, and man, I get so tired! I just, well, I just have to take a little nap."
I didn't listen to her. I packed her up, threw her in the back of the car, and went to work. Of course, when I walked into my office after a class and saw that my computer was still and lifeless, I rushed to her, pressing this and that.
"Oh, my," my computer said. "No need for all the fuss. I just wanted a little down time. I needed to relax. And no one was here, and I thought, what would it matter? Who would need me?"
But then I turned my back, and my computer nodded off again.
Sighing, I turned her off and brought her back home, putting her in her happy spot on the desk. The trip had not done her good. She was blinking and hot, and I thought to call the doctor.
But then the blinking stopped. She stayed her cool self. I put down the phone, looked at her. My computer has been through a lot. Poor thing has flown all over the country. She's browsed and linked and saved and pasted herself into an early retirement, I think. She's beaten and worn and just not the spring chicken she used to be.
At night, I put her to bed and turn off the light, hoping that in the morning I will press the button and she will light up, as usual. Like today, here she is beaming at me.
It's a good day to be a computer. May they all be so.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org