not setting this writer in the best of moods, for one thing. Can’t get into laptop but I really don’t care at this point. It’s out of my hands, completely. So I’m going on with my day. And my day, my lunch break this day, spent most of it on hold with Apple’s dimwitted customer service line. Nothing happened. And here I am talking about it, talking about this latest duel with tech, some devilish device. Least I go an article up on Medium. Now I’m just exhausted. Not really in a bad mood anymore as I am done, retreating, exhausted and just bleh. Picking head up and looking out at vineyard, I realize what a mistake it was to not go for one of my little strolls through the blocks, down by the creeks, and just let the quiet devour me. Instead, I tussle with some buttoned mechanism.
Have to find some way to ignore it. I won’t lie it’s tough, especially when I use the thing for everything, or nearly everything. On the winery’s laptop at the moment, which doesn’t have that bad a feel to it, but it’s not mine. I’m not as comfortable writing. And, I just keep thinking about this fucking laptop of mine and why it suddenly won’t let me in. “Why why why!” I just want to yell at it, but someone just walked into the cottage and I can’t concentrate. Again, my problem. The day just want my suppressed, under some sort of existential duress. Should have learned from Professor Coleman’s scuffle with tech, back in ’99, when he said to to us, “I was a believer.” You should never be a believer. And certainly not one trusting a device, any device. 1:34pm, and I’m only now starting to stabilize, but it’s conditioned, contingent upon that thing, this thing next to me, the thing I need always functioning for pretty much everything.