Broken

Things of mine that are slightly broken or out of commission starting with, in decreasing degree of malfunction:

1. Personal laptop computer
RIP my darling Dell laptop. I got you refurbished in February 2005 and you quietly passed in December 2008. I thought you were merely kidding, resting if you will, because I did have you on pretty much 24/7. Alas, when The Boyfriend attempted to start you up last week in order to insert a reboot CD, you refused to even give him the pleasure of your cursor. I think you're dead, for real this time. Which is so sad because within your hard drive lies a myriad of photographs, writing samples and possibly even the beginnings of a screenplay. I suppose I should have backed up all my documents, especially after your screen flickered in early 2008, a possible warning sign that you were ready to enter the Eternal Sleep Mode. But of course, I didn't. So now, you bring those memories to your electronic grave. I hope they recycle you and send you to a less fortunate child in the African continent. Maybe you'll pop up a writing sample that will inspire someone else to think about becoming a writer?

2. IBM Think Pad T42 -- the office laptop
I tried to start you up this weekend and your LCD screen is DEAD. As in, pitch black, gone. Oh, you work fine, though. I can hear you whirring and buzzing. I can hear that Windows jingle play when you start up. You just won't show me what you're up to. I had to hook you up to a desktop monitor to use you today. You know what gives me great pleasure though? Your replacement is coming tomorrow. That's right -- ONE JUST LIKE YOU. Which only goes to show in the arena of work, no one and nothing is irreplaceable.

3. 2007 Hyundai Elantra
I just got you! Why are you making strange noises already? What's up with the squeaking brakes and rattling driver's side front tire? I looked and it appears you have a bolt stuck in one of your tire threads. Will you let me remove it without protesting with a flat tire, or worse, a complete tire explosion? Or will you make me take you to the dealership, which is all the way by the Los Angeles Airport, in a not-so-nice neighborhood, with no convenient way to get to the office? Really, on one of my busiest work weeks? I had such high hopes for you when I got you. You were supposed to be relatively easy to maintain. Can we make a deal? If I'm really good to you, and bring you in for regular service and maintenance, and take care of your interior, and never subject you to Mexican food or coffee spills, will you be as problem-free as you possibly know how? I'll be paying for you for the next five years and really have no plans to let you go. But don't think I won't sell you to someone else if you're not good to me. Someone who won't care as much about you, someone who will let you squeak and moan until you ultimately heave your last polluted exhaust fume.

4. Spirit
Yeah, you're sort of wearing at the edges. I'm sorry I don't treat you any better and let all and sunder beat down on you. They probably don't mean to break you, but they are coming pretty damn close. I'll try to keep you protected, taken care of. I'll ward off the phone calls from enquiring vendors, the endless stream of client questions and requests for information. I'll try not to frustrate you by thinking negatively. I'll feed you with Scripture, prayer, writing and a good novel. I'll even try to take you on vacation soon. Just hang in there! Don't break down on me just quite yet! Because unlike the Dell, the IBM Think Pad and even the Elantra, I don't have a replacement for you. I can't get another one of you from a Web site, from my IT department or from Enterprise Rent-a-Car. If you go, all I'd be is a tragic little shell of my former self. And that would be sad.