Lament for an Aging Friend

I think I may be nearing a tough decision. At some point, we have all had to make a tough decision, one we dread making, but know it is utterly necessary. This is the dilemma I face. And it is hard to let go.

My laptop, the beloved piece of portable computerhood that has seen me through my college years and holds all of my writing and compositions, is dying. It's difficult to admit. It's slowed to a crawl, doesn't connect the way it used to. More often than not, it is found sleeping peacefully at the end of the kitchen table. Days pass while it goes unnoticed in the daily bustle.

Now, there are those that might say that I have thrown it over for the newer, younger model. I vehemently deny it. Sure, the shiny one has a huge touch screen and is lightning fast, but the keyboard is disobedient, and, well, it isn't as familiar to my fingers; the keys don't leap beneath my fingertips the way they do on old faithful.

I can forgive the random "s"'s it leaves across the page and the turtle speeds, but it just lost a document I had finished editing, and now, I have to do it all over again. I have been in denial for a while. Sure, the signs have been there for a while. Decrepit page loading, frequent freezing of it's arthritic systems. It can't even run with the newer versions of programs. You learn to work around that, as it sneakily get worse and worse. Nevermind that it has far exceeded it's life expectancy, it's getting old.

I think it may be time to allow it a quite retirement into word processing. But it's so hard to let go...