Bereft

It's amazing how disconcerting it can be when your computer becomes sick. My laptop (a 4 year old G4 laptop) suddenly started to flash up little messages telling me that my startup disc was full, that I should delete files to free it up. I deleted some old stuff, tidied up a bit - no good. It was still groaning quietly, occasionally huffing and puffing, performing tasks at a glacial rate - a real oldie with a severe case of memory loss. And now it's in Intensive Care, being operated on by my good friend Mr Heathbank, having its marbles removed entirely and replaced - I think that's the plan - using my backup drive and the results of Time Machine. Sounds too clever to be true, but I'm hoping.

Meanwhile, Mr B is letting me use his machine, a big beast which sighs dramatically, purrs powerfully, and zips about at great speed. The keyboard makes the clunking sound I found so enticing in the movie "Wargames" - when the teenage geek hacked into the Pentagon war simulator: remember? I can't type on it with anything like my usual speed or accuracy, and I keep feeling for the non-existent track-pad. I've lost all my former mouse-dexterity - it has, after all, been four years - and I can't get used to looking up at the screen instead of down, though I know this is better for posture.

I'm contemplating buying a desktop to supplement (and I hope it is that rather than replace) the laptop, but there are so many drawbacks I'm beginning to wonder. Feel free to comment! And in the meantime, I need to sort out the conflicting calls on the mail front or Mr B will repent of his kind offer ...