Net Mouse

So, when I was little my Dad stayed in a house full or computers, of varying degrees of completion and usefulness. After we moved and he got remarried, he bought up a dying computer store. The place loses money like crazy and they're constantly renovating the place with his new Zen/Buddhist style, but it means the computers have another place to live, instead of functioning as a perfect table when eating illegal, sugary cereal. Back in those days I called myself a Net Mouse.

Dad was a Net Rat. Perceptive little kid I was back then.

A few years ago I spent the summer living with them and working in the store assembling machines and installing XP on machines whose owners had realized Vista sucks.

I thought those days were over; Mum never ceases to remind me that I've never been particularly technical, my computer sucks, and I don't fix things either.

Haha! Today was different! I gave the Kindergartners computers! I gave life! (metaphorically, of course)

10 second hand desktops, that just need a couple extension cords to be fully operational. Take that nay-sayers!

My hands were ridiculously dirty and they were feeding me half ripe green mango, but my dignity did not suffer. I'm a god today.

Plus, while waiting for the rest of the world to wake up this morning, I watch the Keira Knightly "Pride and Prejedice."

W arm and Fuzzy today, my friend. So warm and fuzzy that I leave you with this from the 1978 Farmer's Almanac :

To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.

That's so true too.

Nats