Saturday, March 19, 2011
Until We Meet Again...
Oh, the sorrow. I'm not sure how I shall go on...my heart heavy as I walked away from you, yet knowing it is for the best and you are in good hands. At least, that's what the technician assured me. But what does he know? He doesn't know you the way I know you.
My Vaio laptop has been my constant companion for the past five to six years. But lately V (I call him "V") has been slowing down, getting on in years and not able to keep up with my frenetic pace. He tried to tell me to stop pushing so much, be patient, and wait. But I figured he would strive to keep up. Alas...what have I done?
Knowing it was beyond my less than capable hands, I drove V to the specialist today. Like a bad parent who feeds their children McDonald's three times a day and let's them run with scissors, I was admonished by Dr. Computer Technician (Dr. T) for my horrendous mistreatment of V. Incidentally, I am pretty sure Dr. T is all of about six years old, but what do I know? The older I get the younger people seem to look. Anyway, if there is a Social Services department for computers, I am quite sure Dr. T turned me in.
"Have you backed up your computer lately?"
"Well, I can tell just by looking at it the <ACSWS^^ is bad because you didn't use the #!%%$% which would help the YYMDH*! run better with the klsdfjadk;sfj cadfj." (I'm not kidding, I am pretty sure I have accurately relayed the conversation herein. At least, the parts I could understand.)
"Is he gonna make it?" I inquired with trepidation.
"We are at a critical point. The hard-drive has reached its life capacity. We will do a back-up but please understand it could crash during diagnostics, killing it for good. We'll do everything we can."
As I petted and whispered words of comfort to V, Dr. T typed up the prescription. Clickety-clickety-clickety he went with a few "hmmmms" and "tsks" interspersed throughout. You really need to work on your bedside manner, Dr. T.
"You need to leave it with us. We will let you know the status within 72 hours. Right now it is too early to tell."
Suddenly V's life flashed before my eyes. Laughing as we began this blog, the bleary-eyed late hours finishing term papers due in 12 hours, the report that won us an award, our published works, the finances we have budgeted together, the movies we have watched, the Facebook friends we have made. Then something deep inside started to hurt.
V was taken away to a little room to be put on life support while Dr. T does everything he can. I hope he knows I am with him in spirit and look forward to many more years together. So adieu, adieu, V, until we meet again.