Were I Keats, I Would Have Composed An Ode -- And Died Of Tuberculosis Five Years From Now

I'm composing this, not from my regular post at the ol' compy, but from Mr. Laptop instead, who has some interesting quirks. You see, Mr. Laptop likes to shut down randomly, and to not recognize external hard drives sometimes, and he's very quick to notice and complain when the angle of the power supply cord does not meet his exact specifications and preferences. He does all of this, of course, because it amuses him to make his owner's life difficult. If I were Mr. Laptop, I'd probably do the same. First, because yay for recalcitrance. Second, because I would be an IBM ThinkPad, and I can imagine few things worse. Pink iPods. Yep, pink iPods are pretty much the only worse possibility in existence.

Don't get me wrong, I love Mr. Laptop. I love how he affords me the freedom from my apartment while still allowing me to complete my homework assignments. I love how I stroke him and croon to him and baby him so he'll be good to me. I love how I save my Word documents every four and a half minutes because I live in sheer terror of the moment that Mr. Laptop decides to spontaneously shut down on me and erase all the fruits of my hard labor.

Can I just say, yay technology. And I'd like to add a desperate plea for this week to end, because I am tired of being busy and running from one meeting to another and not completing my homework until five in the morning. Because, yick.