So Mick said, "No excuses now." Meaning, no excuses for not finishing the novel, no excuses for not blogging. Funny I can still think of some, but I do have much less to whine about because I got what I really wanted: a mini laptop... or notebook, I guess is the more accurate term.
Mick was initially against the idea of anything this small. I think because he tried to imagine his hands typing on it and his eyes squinting at the screen, but he was clear: this one is mine and mine alone. The screen would give him problems, though since he uses the hunt and peck method of typing, he would actually have less trouble than I. However, I got a little toshiba something or other and the keys are actually spaced and raised and so far, I love it.
Sadly, when we arrived back home after this little shopping excursion, Mick's laptop finally bit the dust. This was no surprise. The surprise was that it lasted as long as it did. I'm not exaggerating when I say that pieces of the computer were actually falling off of it. Yet even after a piece on the side fell off and refused to reattach, and even though it appeared to have a little electronic gizmo in it, it still worked. Huh?
Death by Sam was the actual cause of its demise, a slow painful death. Dropped on its head many times, screen sprung, scratches, and of course, bits falling off.
The advantage to my mini, and one of the main reasons I wanted one, besides the light weight and easy portability, is that it will be much easier to hide.
So I was really excited because I've been taking one of the individuals from the group home to her employment and having to hang out in Salem and wait for her ( cheaper than wasting the gas going back and forth) so I thought " what an excellent opportunity to write".
Well I was wrong. That would have been too good to be true. That falls under someone else's job description just as my job is doing alternatives to employment with a different individual. So I was dropping this young woman off at her employment then coming out to the Lancaster Mall and hanging out at Starbucks. Watching all the elderly people mall-walking, then meeting friends for coffee (the mall-walkers, not me). Business people, too, meet at the mall before any of the shops ( save Starbucks and the food court) open and conduct little business meetings. This is a strange little sub-culture, kind of cozy, intimate, and vaguely fascinating. This is an alternative to bars but probably not a good place to meet men unless you're around 75 or 80, and then frankly, the competition would be fierce. Lots of ladies and those men who are not already attached at the hip are much in demand.
Not that I have to worry about that. Mick has to outlive me or he already knows he will spend the rest of my life in an urn on the fireplace mantle listening to me yak at him. ( I plan on saying "I told you so" about everything. Why not? I tried to not nag him in life, but what could he do about it in that condition? And I could actually speak without interruption). So obviously, it would behoove him to outlive me. Digressing? Me?
I would love to be able to sit here and observe people every day, but it is not to be. I will be once again, trying to write at home after work. I will be hiding my little mini laptop from Sam as well, writing on the sly.
I've much to tell you. Stay tuned. I'm back.
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