Death of a Laptop...
Rest in peace, Petunia. Know that I don't blame you at all for leaving on your own terms one week before I head off for the conference. You probably saw the flood of productivity that always comes from these things and knew it wasn't in you any longer. You were well loved, first by your original owner, Vicki, and now by me. Between the two of us, we pounded your keys, ran your mouse and toted you near and far. You served us well.
I'm not saying I won't miss you at the conference, though Melva probably will be glad there aren't any keys for me to tap in the wee hours of the morning. I wonder if she'll be able to hear pen scratching on paper. Either way, it won't be the same.
You were a good laptop. You let me play Sims1 again when I needed it most, and I appreciate your trying to run Sims2 both for myself and for Vicki, and we understand that it was beyond your time.
Looking back, that should have been a sign; you were trying to tell me something. I shrugged it off when the A drive shut down. After all, who uses floppies anymore? I thought you were trying to be more current for my sake. When the modem pooped out, well, no worries. I can still get online from the desktop, and you were mainly for writing anyway. The black screen of death, however, there's no mistaking that.
I appreciate that you let me see my desktop wallpaper one last time. You must have known it would ease the transition. I have to admit that the future without you looks a bit scary, and yes, it does mean that any key pounding must be done with the desktop.
Most likely, it won't come as a surprise that I'll be looking for another laptop soon. You'd want it that way, I'm sure. It won't be the same, though. Oh sure, there'll be a better video card, and there may be wi-fi, but whoever the new laptop is, and whenever they join the family, there will never be another Petunia. You live on in memory and the data recovery disk. Rest in peace.