My computer is being a thorn in my side, a log in my eye, a forest in my… Well, you get the point. I depend on it entirely too much. I turn it on first thing in the morning to check the weather. I read, I write, I catch up with friends, I research everything from broccoli casserole recipes to poet laureates, and I check in with knitting and writing groups to brush up on my skills. When "the" computer (I refuse to call it “my” computer) slows to a crawl and eventually a stop, I dream of drop kicking it out the window (wearing steal toed boots, of course) and curse my lack of courage. Instead, I look out the window to check for rain; find pen, paper and an encyclopedia; and pull out my cookbooks at dinnertime. And cast sideways glares at the bane of my existence.