As writers, we need to have a good working relationship with our computer. We need it to work just about flawlessly as we craft and mold our next novel.
However, I have noticed something occurring over the last few years. I discovered my computer is female. Yes, I know it is an object, and objects don’t have gender.
Let me explain.
My desktop and I have a decent work symbiotic thing going on. Well, until it decides it doesn’t want to work for me.
It seems over the last few years, my computer, on occasions, will break down or have an issue that I need to figure out. One where I will try the tricks of the trade I have learned over the years. Sometimes that works. Most times, it does not.
When all else fails, I ask my husband for help. To say he is a whiz with computers is a true understatement. He will sit down and try to do the same function that I tried and could not accomplish. He will do a complete analysis on other days and find there is nothing wrong with it. User error? Sometimes I am sure. But not all the time.
Here is one example that happened last week. I tried to print a recipe out. It was one sheet long. I hit print, and nothing happened. When my husband sat down, he asked me to show him what I did. He did the same thing. It worked for him.
What happens is it will work for him a large percentage of the time.
Yes, I will get various remarks from the peanut gallery. Knowing full well that I tried and it didn’t work falls on deaf ears.
If this happened once or twice or even a small handful of times, that would be bearable, slightly. But in the past year, it has been the norm.
The computer I have proclaimed is female, and she has the temper of a witch.
Yes, I know I have no concrete evidence, yet I know she is, she knows it, and it is clear as day she does not like me on certain occasions. And will only work when a male is at her keyboard.