Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

I’ve finally separated from the mainstay in my life after a decade. It was a good run and lasted longer than anyone expected.

My “ex” is Windows XP. I loved that operating system. My Dell was reliable, we understood each other. It knew the intimate details of my life. It supported my writing. It was always there when I needed it. It was patient and taught me a lot about its inner workings.

As it aged, my better half got temperamental. It became slow, no matter how much I prodded and pleaded. It stubbornly locked up on me at inopportune times. It got unsociable, refusing to communicate with other PCs. The final straw was when Microsoft decided not to support XP anymore. I felt like the bottom fell out of my world. Damn you, Bill Gates!

After careful research, I ordered a new Dell. Not Windows 8, I’d heard horror stories. Windows 7 was more my speed. It was delivered and the box sat there for nearly a year. I couldn’t do it. I was still loyal to my old computer, even though it seemed to be getting Alzheimer’s.  

I know my idea that a computer should last a lifetime is unrealistic. But, when you’ve invested your life, thoughts and career into those wires and microchips, you expect loyalty in return. My computer knows more about me than my parents or my lovers. I have confided in this piece of equipment and it has been faithful.

You never forget your first computer. I’d had affairs with office computers, learned by trial and error and always had experts on-call for problem solving. I bought my own personal computer in 1997, a huge, black Toshiba. It cost me $2,000 and I made payments for a year. The Internet was still in the infancy stage and dial-up was easier to access at 3 a.m.  Toby was hard to part with, but it couldn’t keep up with the times, which were a-changing.

The next one was a cast-off of my sisters, some off-brand. It was a difficult relationship right from the start. I was almost glad when it died, although it happened right in the middle of getting a novel to the publisher. I quickly had to order a new one without knowing much about what I wanted. It cost $800. Now it was time for an upgrade.

I opened the box on New Years to fulfill my resolution to stop procrastinating. There were no operating instructions and an Office program didn’t come with it. I still have to get speakers, although I question why every computer can’t come with ones when even my Surface has sound. The tutorials are worthless without sound. It’s been trial and error as I’ve had to deal with this younger and faster PC. Often I chide myself that I’m too old for this nonsense.      

We’re working out our differences. I lost email addresses, but I’m building my contacts back up. The more expedient features don’t seem as easy as my XP. This young computer plays hide-and-seek with my documents. It asks questions I’m not prepared to answer. The icons are different or missing. I long for the familiarity and comradeship of my former PC. We’d been through two novels and countless blogs together.

Then I remembered—I wrote my first book on a Brother electric typewriter. We thought Wite-Out (invented by one of the Monkees’ mothers) was the best invention ever. When word processers came on the scene, it was a revolution. I adjusted to progress so easily back then.

This is a new millennium and the world is changing, perhaps too quickly for my comfort. I need to adapt to survive. That’s what evolution is all about. But, I still pray that this will be my last relationship. If breaking up is hard to do, starting over is just as difficult.