Alright, so you know how it is. Sometimes, getting things done isn’t just about your own motivation. Sometimes, you gotta get other things in the mood first. It’s a bit of a dance, especially with stuff that’s got its own mind, so to speak. People talk about their fancy setups, their streamlined workflows. Me? I’m over here trying to sweet-talk a relic from another age.
I’ve got this old computer, see. A proper dinosaur. I use it for one thing and one thing only: writing. No internet, no fancy bells and whistles, just me and the screen. Sounds peaceful, right? Well, let me tell you, this machine – and I call “her” a “her” because, man, she’s temperamental – needs a whole darn ritual before she’ll even think about cooperating. It’s my daily warm-up act before the main event.
First thing, booting her up. It’s not just hitting the power button and away you go. Nope. I gotta press the button, then listen. There’s this specific whirring sound she’s supposed to make. If it’s not right, I might have to give the side of the tower a little pat. Seriously, a pat. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it with a machine this stubborn. Found that out one morning when I was about ready to chuck the whole thing. Then comes the software, this ancient word processor I’ve been using since forever. That’s another delicate operation. Click too fast when it’s loading? She’ll freeze up solid. Try to open a document before she’s had her morning coffee, metaphorically speaking? She’ll throw a digital tantrum, maybe even mess up the file. Yeah, learned that one the hard way, lost a whole chunk of work once.
So, the routine is pretty set: power on, listen for the magic whirr, give her a friendly tap if she’s being grumpy. Then I gotta wait. I mean, properly wait. Go make a cup of tea, stare out the window, whatever. Only then can I gently, and I mean gently, click to open that old word processor. Let it sit there for a good minute, just breathing, before I dare to open my actual work. It’s a whole production.
Now, you’re probably thinking, “Mate, why bother with all that hassle? Just get a new computer!” And yeah, I’ve heard it. I even tried it. Went out, bought a shiny new laptop, all the latest gear. You know what? I spent more time wrestling with software updates, blinking notifications, and a million features I never asked for than actually getting any writing done. It felt…cold. Too perfect, maybe? And the internet, always there, whispering sweet nothings about distraction. Nah, wasn’t for me.
This whole song and dance with “Old Faithful,” as I sometimes call her, it didn’t happen overnight. It started way back. I had this awful job, really grinding me down. The only thing that kept me sane was scribbling stories in my spare time. The family computer was always in use, or clogged with games and who knows what else. Then a friend was clearing out his garage and had this old beast. Said it was probably junk. I took it, wiped it, found an old copy of that word processor on a dusty disk, and set it up in a quiet corner. It became my little escape pod.
She was just old and slow back then. But over time, these quirks, these little demands, they just sort of…developed. Or maybe I just got used to her ways. Now, it feels like we have an understanding. I go through the motions, she lets me write. It’s a pain in the neck sometimes, no doubt, especially when I’ve got an idea burning a hole in my head and she decides to be difficult. But when she finally settles down, and that cursor starts blinking on that plain, familiar screen, there’s this little kick of satisfaction. Like, okay, we did it. She’s in the mood. Now I can get to work.
So yeah, this whole ritual to “get her in the mood” is a bit much. But it’s my bit much. And you know what? I reckon all this new, slick, “it just works” stuff sometimes robs you of something. There’s no…give and take. This old machine, she makes me earn it. Maybe that’s the point. Or maybe I’m just a creature of habit who likes a bit of a challenge before breakfast. Either way, she’s humming now, so I better get on with it.
