in my next life...

...I'll be one of those women that never trips over her own feet, can apply flawless makeup, wear skinny jeans, pointy toe shoes, gets manicures, has a clean house, belongs to a book club, speaks French and has a fancy handbag. 

In the meantime I need to learn how to take care of my things. 

The new computer was delivered at work on Tuesday but I didn't take it home until Thursday. I worked late and had events on Tuesday and Wednesday and didn't get home until midnight each night. I knew if I brought the computer home I'd stay up even later goofing around. 

Thursday evening was great. I got home in time to mow the lawn for the first time this year --for the first time since it's been 'my house, my yard.'  The mower started up on the first pull and I finished five minutes before the rain began. I popped a bowl of popcorn and sat in my living room with the door open, lights off and candles lit. The house smelled great- rain, springtime, freshly cut grass and the scent of a candle that I bought in Ireland. I didn't turn on the television all night (even though the pull of Ugly Betty, The Office and Grey's Anatomy was pretty heavy). I sat in my grandpa's old rocker in the dark and wrote and rocked and thought and rocked and wrote and enjoyed being in my house. 

Around 11:00 I put my hand on the top of the computer to shut the lid and made a horrible discovery. I honestly thought I was going to faint. The beautiful smelling Belleck candle from Ireland candle had melted a spot on the top of the computer. 

I chided myself for being so careless and promised myself that I would take better care of my computer. I'd only had it home for six hours and it was already scarred. 

The next morning I was multi-tasking. Listening to morning radio, straightening my hair and emailing with Kristi about a guest comedian (I thought he sounded cute, she set me straight- something about a 'go funny' eye). Did I mention that I had the computer perched on the sink, just like I'd done hundreds of mornings with my old laptop? I walked away to let the cat in and heard a loud crash. 

A sick feeling washed over me. I ran to the bathroom and the MacBook was open, face down on the new tile floor. 

As you can see the computer survived, but I felt horrible. If there was a protective services division for Apple they would have taken the computer away, I'm just sure of it. 

So, from now on, the computer only gets opened on a table. No writing in bed or checking email on the ironing board or blogging in the hammock. 

And in my next life I'll have a home office.