Robyn Anderson

I have new glasses, a new phone and a new laptop. I got the glasses because the other ones spent their entire day halfway down my nose and I had developed a sore neck. I got the phone because I was wearing the new glasses when I arsed up and obliterated the screen on the phone. And I got the new laptop because I was working on the age-old theory that if you have a new baby you may as well buy a puppy.

The old Apple I am currently using is choking itself to death. Aside from getting slower with each activation it also keeps advising me my disk is almost full. I am no newcomer to the agonies of change and for several months now I’ve alternatively been putting off thinking about it and when I’ve not been doing that, doing my research on display models all over town. Last week I thought, this phone thing hasn’t been too bad, I’ll get the laptop and that will be the last of the big spends for another few years. On the next clear day, (meaning one when I was actually able to sensibly compare all the possible candidates and chose the one I thought would suit me best); I ordered it. Online. I thought I was getting a great deal and a trade in until the Apple Shop couldn’t read my post code and I realized that even though it says New Zealand up the top of the page, it isn’t New Zealand until you click on the words. When I repeated the exercise it added another $500 to the price but I had the computer I wanted, so I printed my receipt and prepared myself to wait 7 days.

The first thing that happened was it arrived earlier than expected. 4 days after ordering I checked the tracking number to discover the courier had picked it up ‘for delivery’ early that morning. I was beyond impressed. I stayed home the entire day waiting. The only time I left the house was to check the post- which was when I discovered lying on top of what passes for mail these days, a note from DHL saying the courier had called and I was not at home. I was furious. Not at home? What was wrong with courier number 19? Did he (sorry, they’re always blokes round here), not know how to use a door knocker? So I did what any woman who’d spent the day sewing would do, I rang up DHL and gave them a piece of my mind. A large, meaty chunk if I’m being honest. It didn’t phase the phone-answerer one little bit. ‘Yes Robyn. I understand Robyn.’ Robyn, Robyn Robyn. I was splintering into several beings. One of them was yelling, another was wishing I’d remembered his name so I could continually use it to piss him off the way the constant use of mine was pissing me off and there was this other, quite large part of me that knew my behaviour was totally inappropriate and I should stop acting like a spoiled child. That part almost won – until he told me the depot wasn’t open for collection at any time in the weekend.

We did not part as friends.

This morning (day 7 for those interested in numerology), I followed Lady Google out to the DHL depot at the airport and picked up the package. It was quite a bit smaller than the tantrum would have suggested but when I got it home and opened it up, there amongst the environmentally sustainable packaging was my shiny, new Apple laptop.

Without any usb ports whatsoever.

I had been quite chuffed when I read that unlike the phone, the laptop came with it’s own power plug and cord. So how did I miss usb ports? I’ve since looked at the advertised model and I can see how. The new one has little slots and when you’re expecting to see something, like usb ports, that’s exactly what you think they are. It also does not have a slot for an SSD card so I suspect there is more drama lurking in the Canon/Apple wifi sharing interface. I have no idea what that actually means but I believe it encapsulates the feeling of impending doom rather well.

I continued my exploration and lifted the lid. I was simultaneously impressed that the laptop was powered up and confused that it had a such a manky screen until I realized that was a special protector that peeled away and revealed the oversold optics that even with my new glasses on, looked pretty much like the old ones. On the prompt I wrote the one hundred word essay now required to hook up to the internet. And naturally the laptop refused to accept anything by way of ‘seamless air transfer’ from this old, slow, choked up model I am currently using. I did not, as my previous record would indicate, lose my shit. I closed the lid and filed the new laptop in my file cabinet between ‘Research Current’ and ‘Writing Expenses’. Tomorrow I will have to detour to a tech store on the way to my meeting and spend $39.95 on an adapter that plugs into the computer and has a single usb port on the end. That’s so I can use the keyboard I’m using now. The one with the worn-off printing on my popular keys and the dongle connected to the, you guessed it, usb port on the computer. The adaptor will not address the repopulation issue. I could call in the UN but I suspect it’s one of natures little tricks to make me use my brain and therefore live a very, very long time trapped in a body that wanted to call it a day at the first twinge of arthritis.

Or I could have that entirely wrong and just explode.