This year I’ve made a pact with myself to write more. Perhaps not everyday and perhaps not on this silly blog, but I’m going to write.
I’ve started jotting down the extensive ideas in my brain…longhand…in a tiny notebook. It makes my tennis elbow throb. It makes my carpal tunnel ache. Plus, I can’t write fast enough and legible enough for myself.
I told my husband I wanted a laptop to write a book. He wrote me off.
So I bought one.
It’s technically a Google Chromebook…whatever that means. So maybe it’s not actually a real laptop. But it had everything I needed for NOT one thousand dollars.
So, now I can upload my thoughts more quickly and, well, now I can look like one of those cool kids that hunkers down at a coffee shop and works on stuff over lattes and mochas. That is all I’ve ever wanted.