Andrew couldn’t work it out. The bloody computer had a mind of it’s own, it took so fucking long to download stuff and sometimes just plain refused to do anything. It just sat their turning it’s rainbow circle thingy and did nothing. Of course it was overloaded, it was compromised by Andrew’s crazed “hurry up clicking” on the mouse and outright strangulating impatience. Andrew was waiting for life.
He wanted his computer to work rather well because he had nothing much else to do besides read rubbish, look at friend’s pictures, try to create some writing and respond to emails. Most of the 100 odd emails he got each day were spam. They were very odd in nature as well. He always wanted to clean this “e”crap first before doing anything vaguely productive.
He was old
Productivity was beyond poor old Andrew nowadays. He was like a pensioner without a pension, he had a lot less passion, but not quite passionless with a strong penchant for trying to write. He could only try. He had an audience the size of the communicable disease ward in the space station.
No one cared, read, watched, shared, downloaded, uploaded or just plain old knew about his verbal dross. So it was the same as any other day that Andrew sat in front of his shiny computer. Interestingly it used to be shiny, but now sadly the screen was covered in a fine layer of dust and those routine sweaty finger marks lived on the keyboard. Andrew had an idea as he contemplated occupying his time in another anti-social fanatical way. He’d take up collecting teaspoons.
Well, he was already underway with spoons as he had two cutlery sets in his kitchen already, but as he started to research the subject he realised that those 8 teaspoons did not count. He was leaning heavily into a facebook group on spoons as he stopped himself. This was the online behaviour he was trying to change.
Ok then
He tried about 49 other mind-numbingly boring activities, all from the comfort of his desk of course, but alas he found none. He did find a great site for people who graved getting out more and they spent their time chatting on a closed chat room.
Funnily enough Andrew recognised the name of a few of those members, very naughty Frank for one. He’d seen them on the news as screaming at their neighbours on a local tabloid tv current affairs show. So after working that out, he got out, out of the group but not outside.
So after all this fruitless searching and chatting about nothing, he woke to the notion that none of this rocked his world. He still liked tapping out nonsense onto a sweaty computer keyboard whilst wiping away dust from his large glossy window into the world. He rocked back and forth and typed.
Andrew called a truce to change and embraced the normal. No change is better than a bad choice and no choice outside the norm meant he remained comfortable. Andrew was comfortable and as he’d sworn before, he meant to clean his keyboard and screen. The glossy window and smooth keys should be clean, even if the content it provided wasn’t. A theme was developing though.
