I love it. I hate it. I use it, but I don’t trust it. That
stupid computer. Of course it would never be the stupid computer operator. It’s
never my fault. It’s always the machine. Or maybe my husband for whom the
machine willingly obeys. In fact he can even teach it new tricks. Which it then
uses to confuse and agitate me.
I have a dog that listens better than the computer. At least
to me. I ask him to move the sheep and he rounds them up. I tell him to back
off and he comes behind me. I tell him to stay and he does. That’s what the
computer is to my husband. If my husband tells the dog to do something, the dog
just looks to me for permission. That’s what the computer does for me. I just don’t
have the authority and the range of commands to get it to cooperate and obey.
Now I can get the computer to do some things. Even my
husband can put the dog out to go to the bathroom. I can look up information on
the sheep data base. I write my articles on word perfect. I can even cruise the
internet for information. That’s if nothing has moved from where it was
previously. Or if the password hasn’t changed. At least I don’t change my dog’s
name. It’s usually easy to find him too. He’s wherever I am. Well, if I had to
look for the computer I would know where to find it. It would be wherever my
husband was, since it’s a laptop. He spends almost as much time with it as I do
my dog, except my dog sleeps in my bedroom. Used to be at least my husband
couldn’t take the computer to bed with him, but even that has changed.
Why do we aggravate ourselves with this machine? It is supposed
to make life easier. I love to write on it. I can go so much faster. One of the
best devices is spell check. I only have problems when my spelling of a word is
so far-fetched that the computer can’t even make a guess at the word. The sheep
data base is still in the making; my husband, I believe likes changing it and
pulling up different configurations of ways to group the sheep. He still can’t
answer my questions though. And I don’t trust the computer to not lose my precious
documents, I still do a print out regularly and keep a hand written back up
notebook.
Email, and now chat on Facebook have been great inventions.
I still can’t understand why, though, a person living a non-long distance phone
call away insists on sending me emails, messages and texts. I’d still much rather talk to a person.
While I like spending time playing games and surfing the
net, often the frustrations outweigh the pleasures. A fight with the computer can
change the flavor of my whole day. I yell at it and it sits there smugly, not
doing what I want. My articles are lost, I can’t make changes to a document, I can’t
upload a picture, or change it’s size. I can’t get on the internet; I can’t
find where something has moved. I think I’ll choose my dog for a companion. The
only annoying things he does are chasing the neighbor’s truck and coming into
the house with muddy feet. When I yell at him at least I get a reaction, even
if he does turn upside down and piddle. Bet my husband can’t get his stupid
computer to do that!
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