A Letter

Dear Computer,
Why do you treat me this way? Oh little black box of plastic and wires, lovingly dusted and kept from drinks and sticky fingers, why do you act so hatefully to me? I do not understand all the freezing and the disconnecting. I have spent so much time with you. Often at the expense of my children being fed at regular intervals and surely at the expense of the gathering dust bunnies being sucked away into the Hoover vortex, I sit with you and gleefully tap your keys. I gazed upon your bright screen and found lively conversation and information. But now? You come and go when you please, connecting when you want, freezing when I am in the middle of something important. Why? I keep you properly updated, delete unnecessary emails, and give you lovely pictures of my beautiful family to gaze upon when I cannot be with you. Why do you turn away from my inquiring eyes? Why must you shield the internet from me and keep my ears from your gleeful cry of "You've got mail!" I love you and I need you, oh sweet beacon of technology. You are such a part of my life. Is that the problem? Was I too dependent on you? Was I smothering you? I can change, I promise. I'll give you some space. But don't turn your back on me. I am tired of this game and I am getting frustrated. Let's give up the freezing and the shutting down and the refusal to connect to the internet, okay? Can't we try to start over, to re-boot our relationship--but maybe just ONCE, not every 10 minutes? On my end, I will try to keep my cuss words to a minimum. But I have been faithful to our commitment, to our time together. I seek you out all the time-is it too much to ask some cooperation from you? If you don't feel like you can work with me, know that it will not end well for you. I have a hammer. I know how to use it.

Love,
Jody