It’s a sad day, my friends. My beloved netbook is no longer with us.

The end came suddenly, and she was in good spirits last time I used her. I don’t think she suffered. One minute she seemed fine, the next she was still fine, but not charging.

I took her to the best help I could find, and they presented me with a tough choice: spend the money to fix her, or get my data transferred over to a “like new” refurbished computer for less, and more quickly.

If I’d had the money, I’d have spent it to save her, even if it cost a lot more.

Seriously.

I know it’s stupid. One computer should be pretty much the same as any other. The new one’s the same brand (make, not model). But I get terribly attached to inanimate objects.

We’ve been through a lot together. I wrote a novel on that computer. And re-wrote it. Repeatedly. And drafted another one. Then there were the blog posts, the evenings spent going back and forth between Scrivener and Facebook… We had many days together in car dealerships waiting for repairs and oil changes, and she never complained about being bored. She was with me when I discovered the library in Gander, and though she wasn’t around for my first NaNoWriMo, she was with me through two wins (if you count camp) and one fail. I mean, loss. I mean… Attempt? Whatever.

She was the first computer that was ever MINE, and she made it possible for me to actually find time to write.

Also, she was black and shiny, and had wicked leaf and bird decals on the hood. Screen back? Again, whatever.

The new one will be fine. Sure, it’s a little different; it’s red, and the power button’s not the same. But it works, and that’s important… I guess.

I’m going to act like there’s no superstitious feeling connected to the fact that I’ve only had success with this story on that one computer, because that would be silly. Silly like sport-type guys not shaving or changing their socks (who marries these people, anyway?).

Does this post seem especially disjointed to anyone else? I CAN’T DO IT WITHOUT HER! *sob*

Tell me I’m not the only one who forms irrational attachments to inanimate objects, that I’m not the only one who feels like I owe them something after their years of service.* You all do this, right?

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*I place the blame for this squarely on The Velveteen Rabbit. It was loved! It was REAL! I could have saved it instead of letting them use it for parts! So what if it had scarlet fever**?

**May not have actually had scarlet fever.

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EDIT: As requested, my new (to me) computer:

Fancy.