I moved again. Not from one flat to another, or to another blog, but to a different PC, and I’m a bit knackered by the effort. Strange how each of those occasions seems to require the same amount of time, tenacity and heartache. Granted, the latter two don’t involve lugging a sofa up and down several flights of stairs, but in some cases I think that might be preferable.
The move came about due to a miscalculation I made two years ago.
When I first came to England, I was writing on an AlphaSmart, but after a while I longed for a laptop, so when I began carrying one around for work, I put all my files on it. The problem with that was, when I was unable to get a front seat on the bus, I was unable to open it up and had to spend the trip just staring out the window. This became a pressing problem when a sudden surge of people began riding the bus. Usually, I was the only person on when I boarded, but over time more and more people appeared. And they all sat in the front seats.
My brainstorm was to buy a mini-laptop that I could open even if I was sitting in one of the regular seats.
It seemed the perfect solution, so I bought an Acer netbook over the 2009 Christmas holidays—a sort of belated gift to myself—and spent several days configuring it. Then two things happed simultaneously when I went back to work: first, the people disappeared, then they brought in a new style of bus that had a much roomier front area containing as many as eleven seats I could use that had no seat in front of them. But I had bought the netbook, so I was going to use it, dammit.
It wasn’t a bad little PC; it was light and as easy to carry as a hardcover book and had all the power I needed to write, manipulate photographs and manage my website, but it had a tiny little screen. Working is such a confined viewing area made my life difficult. My spreadsheets wouldn’t fit, photos looked too large and the area I had to write in was limited. Also, when handling my e-mail, the Yahoo page header, e-mail header and all the other shit Yahoo throws at you made the text area of the e-mail so small I could only see a few lines.
To top that off, the cruelest irony of all occurred when I did have to sit in a regular seat, where I discovered that the laptop, small though it was, still could not be opened without bumping into the seat in front of me: the entire reason I purchased it was based on a fallacy. Writing on it was not impossible, but it was very difficult indeed. Still, I bought the damn thing, so I was going to use it.
But this week I figured two years was enough, so I spent the last couple of days configuring everything back to my work laptop. And unlike last time, I created a second user account so my business self could log in and get all my work stuff and my writing self could keep the writing area free of distracting clutter (sometimes working on a client specification is preferable to tackling the next chapter in the novel).
So far, it’s working a treat, but the time-suck has been amazing. No matter how many times I do this, it never gets any easier.
Now you just know that when I go back to work next week a whole gang of people will be on the bus taking up all of the front seats.