The sky is blue and daffodils are busting out all over. Spring is most definitely here. I'd like to be out in it, but I am inside. All pale and clammy, like a slug under a rock. A slug with a backlog of work.
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| Improved mouse |
And a new laptop. I'm getting to know its idiosyncracies. I like the keyboard - the keys are weighted perfectly and click in a very satisfactory manner. It sounds like I'm knitting very fast. The mouse is an improvement on its predecessor - which required an ridiculous of pressure before it would respond. Double-clicking burnt signficant calories.
On the minus side, the sound quality is worse. The start-up page (which I don't seem to be allowed to change) is horrible, informing me that it is 'delivering innovation'. I may start using this as a euphemism for taking a shit. The operating system is needy - constantly offering updates, and unnecessary bells and whistles that I don't want. Like an exhaustingly over-attentive host.
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| Breakfast drink |
I used to have a Greek Cypriot landlady who was big on hospitality. I'd go round to pay my rent in the morning, and she'd ply me with everything in her cuboards. Cake, biscuits, wine, fruit. I'd string her along with 'no, thank yous' just to see how far she'd go. (Normally as far as Metaxa - offered with the desperate grin of the knowingly-beaten.) It was fun - we both knew it was a game. It's less fun with my laptop - very earnest and humourless.
I get the chance for a brief foray outside. The printer runs out of ink - I make it to Rymans just in time. I buy the right cartridge. It loads without complaining (unusual).
I suspect that if I'd been in this situation last week, I'd have either set fire to Rymans or broken the printer in my attempts to change the cartridge. Am I transitioning from klutzdom to grace?
Maybe next week I'll discover hidden dance skills. Watch this space.
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