My keyboard is dying.
(Cue mournful music.)
The last two days, it just hasn’t been able to keep up with my 80 wmp expectations. Not like it once did, as a young, spry keyboard of years past.
Now, I know it’s unhealthy to immediately replace pets when they die, but let’s face it: I’m gonna need a keyboard that types more than one letter every five seconds. So I’ve already run out to Office Depot for a new one.
I know what you’re thinking. It’s not even dead yet. Show some compassion, girl!
(The new one is pretty. And shiny. And new. All of which are factors that equal happiness for Jordan.)
I think the old keyboard knows. I think it can feel the stares of the new, superior keyboard as it sits patiently on the corner of my desk… waiting… calculating.
Poor, old keyboard. I can feel it trying harder, but it just doesn’t have the juice anymore.
Don’t worry, faithful keyboard; you’ll get a proper and respectful burial.
(These days, Fridays are kind of slow at work. Thank you for bearing with me in the only excitement to happen today. And, of course, joining in the grieving process.)