I am typing on a keyboard the size of a #10 envelope and gazing at a screen the size of a postcard. My laptop is on a bench somewhere waiting for a nerd to diagnose and fix it's infirmities. I am not used to this but liking that at least I can communicate to a world who really doesn't care that the spell check in my head, and on the screen, does not work. Where is my Funk and Wagnall's and do I care?
I am impotent without my laptop, my Kindle is my little blue pill. It will do for now, it has to, as I wait for the nerdy guy to call and tell me the awful truth. I have strived to manage with less, while learning that this little machine, and my mind, are far more advanced than I ever would have imagined.
I tried to add an image but my attempts failed. I am not as smart as I thought I was, are you?
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