Recently, I’ve been searching for a new laptop. The one I’m typing this post on (also featured in the photo above) is over six years old, and it’s still going strong, but there are signs of age. Programs randomly crashing, starting it up only to be met with an empty black screen and having to start it up again, and for some reason the lid is sticky. Like, super sticky. Like, don’t set a piece of paper down on it because some of it will almost definitely stay stuck to the laptop, sticky.
Since this majestic tank of a laptop has survived 6 years of my abuse and gotten me through both undergrad and grad school, I am hesitant to get a new one. Part of me is worried my new one won’t be hardy enough. I mean, most of my friends have had at least two, if not three laptops in the time I’ve had mine. What if I get a new one and it only lasts a year or two, you know, like normal technology? But most of my concerns are about leaving my current laptop behind.
It just feels very wrong to use your laptop to look for a new one. It’s sort of like asking a boyfriend you’re about to dump if he has any cute friends. A boyfriend you’ve been dating for six years. I’m emotionally attached to this laptop, but as a writer, waiting until it officially dies just isn’t an option because that would put me out of work for several days, if not a couple of weeks. Instead, I have to pull the plug, and it is making me far more emotional than I would have expected.
I went through something similar recently with a new phone. The old one was over 3 years old, and it was overheating and dropping texts and I hadn’t downloaded a new app for over a year because the memory was full, so it was time. But I got my new phone set up almost a week ago, and I love it, but the old one is still just sitting on my desk, where it always used to sit. Like a memorial. I just can’t bring myself to send it off to a donation center or throw it away, or whatever you’re supposed to do with old phones.
That’s how they get you. The robots, I mean. In every robot apocalypse movie ever, humans use robots for more and more personal things, until they’re practically family, and that’s when it’s over. It’s already beginning, I can tell, because when I went to Best Buy to look at laptops, I felt guilty every time I wandered away from the Lenovo section. I have come to believe that Lenovos are literally indestructible because I’ve had mine for six freaking years (have I mentioned that yet?).
But the rational part of my brain that has not yet been held hostage by my technology wanted to scope out all my options, and it felt terrible. Any time I found a laptop with a feature Lenovo didn’t offer, or a keyboard with that good clacky feel that Lenovo just doesn’t make anymore, I found myself glancing back toward the Lenovo section. Like they were watching or something. *Cue the I, Robot soundtrack*
Update: I am typing this update from my new laptop, which is indeed a Lenovo, because my squishy human heart is controlled by robots.