Dear Skylar the Dell Laptop:
I thought I was done with you until my mother phoned me this morning to ask why I fired you from your position as my computer. I was forced to answer honestly.
The reality was, you never wanted to be a computer. Some well-meaning individual at Dell likely told you there wasn't another option. You were born and bred to be a computer. And you humbly and begrudgingly accepted your position.
But the reality was, you always wanted to be a lumberjack.
Showing posts with label laptop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label laptop. Show all posts
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Friday, May 20, 2011
Letter of Termination
Dear Skylar the Dell Laptop:
It is with a somewhat heavy heart that I feel I must write this post. You have been my laptop for the past two years or so. In that time, we have shared somewhat of an intimacy that I haven't shared with most of my other previous computers. You were there when I felt crazy and needed to write angsty poetry to describe my craziness. You were there when I began my decent into the world of social media by starting not only my Facebook and Ravelry pages, but my twitter, blog, LibraryThing and DeviantArt pages as well. You were there for countless papers, long nights online, and long showings of obscure foreign films on Netflix. You have done quite a bit of work over the years for my job, barely working under the weight of the load called "Adobe." You have, indeed, been my constant companion over the last two years.
However, I should state that despite all of this, nothing you have done has been without great personal cost to me.
I have never had a day of peace in my computing with you. It has always been a fight to remain online, to work without crashing, and to run the way I ask you to. A year ago, it was discovered that you were disabled by a defective motherboard, and you handled yourself admirably. However, the replacement has not worked to my liking.
Recently, the refusal to upload a blog post was the final straw. And so, as it would be with an employee who does not meet office standards (and you would never want to feel that I was keeping you out of a sense of duty), that I feel I must fire you. You are being replaced as of today. Hand over your vast files and leave the building.
Your replacement? With any luck she will be a far better employee than you. I present:
Momo-Tan Mac.
It's been a good run, good buddy. Good, but not great. And after you've been reformatted and turned into a computer to run John's audiology software, I'm sure you'll have a much better time of things.
It is with a somewhat heavy heart that I feel I must write this post. You have been my laptop for the past two years or so. In that time, we have shared somewhat of an intimacy that I haven't shared with most of my other previous computers. You were there when I felt crazy and needed to write angsty poetry to describe my craziness. You were there when I began my decent into the world of social media by starting not only my Facebook and Ravelry pages, but my twitter, blog, LibraryThing and DeviantArt pages as well. You were there for countless papers, long nights online, and long showings of obscure foreign films on Netflix. You have done quite a bit of work over the years for my job, barely working under the weight of the load called "Adobe." You have, indeed, been my constant companion over the last two years.
However, I should state that despite all of this, nothing you have done has been without great personal cost to me.
I have never had a day of peace in my computing with you. It has always been a fight to remain online, to work without crashing, and to run the way I ask you to. A year ago, it was discovered that you were disabled by a defective motherboard, and you handled yourself admirably. However, the replacement has not worked to my liking.
Recently, the refusal to upload a blog post was the final straw. And so, as it would be with an employee who does not meet office standards (and you would never want to feel that I was keeping you out of a sense of duty), that I feel I must fire you. You are being replaced as of today. Hand over your vast files and leave the building.
Your replacement? With any luck she will be a far better employee than you. I present:
Momo-Tan Mac.
It's been a good run, good buddy. Good, but not great. And after you've been reformatted and turned into a computer to run John's audiology software, I'm sure you'll have a much better time of things.
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