Yep, strep. Really, really, really bad strep. I've been given 10 days of antibiotics. (I am now on Day 6, by the way, but haven't gotten around to writing this until now...)
I spent the weekend in complete misery and was sicker than I think I have ever been as an adult. The good news is that the antibiotics kicked in by Sunday, and by Monday, I was able to at least put on pants that don't have a drawstring and drag myself into my cubicle. The bad news is that we, again, had Sales Conference this week at work, and I am now completely exhausted after being sick, and then returning to a week of back-to-back meetings.
To make myself feel better, I just bit the bullet and ordered a new 13-inch MacBook Pro, 2.4 GHz processor. My almost-6-year-old ORIGINAL MacBook Pro is on its last legs. I can't believe it has made it even this far. It's been a good 5 1/2 years, but it's time for this old jalopy to retire. (Does anyone else say "jalopy" ever? My mom says "jalopy.")
[this new, shiny goodie will be waiting for me at my parents' house next week]
My original, Gen-1 MacBook Pro has been with my since May 2006, a high school graduation gift from my parents. MacBook Pro had just released to the world at the end of January 2006, and I felt like the coolest kid on the block with my (then) hip technology. I made three different photo slideshow DVDs (most likely set to the Goo Goo Dolls or Matchbox Twenty) for my graduation party in June and thought that that was completely cutting-edge...
And, now, once I transfer all my docs, photos, and music next week, this ol' MacBook Pro is going to spend the rest of its days gathering dust in a Michael Kors shoebox in my closet at my parents' house. (No lie, that's where my last computer, the original "Blueberry" iBook clamshell still slumbers... I should really snap a picture of that when I'm home...)
So without further ado:
An Ode to MacBook Pro-1
Dear MacBook Pro-1, do you remember when my roommate from Long Island spilled beer on your poor keyboard freshmen year?
Do you remember all the terrible Photo Booth pictures? Especially the ones of my terrible long-ish side bangs sophomore year?
Do you remember when you crashed during finals in May freshmen year, and I cried in front of you at the Apple store at Pentagon City? Damn Limewire.
What about that time when one of my roommates dropped her Diamond Board* on you? I still loved you, despite your dented exterior.
You were with me through some of the most terrible all-nighters in Gelman, down to the finish line, helping me crank out 15-page papers on the theories of Roman Jakobson or the themes of anxiety in Sartre, bringing me the joyful distractions of Facebook and YouTube and Pandora.
You kept your cool.
Until your fan and mother board and everything else started to go.
How did you get so good at cropping ex-boyfriends out of photos in iPhoto? You must have had a bad break-up in a past life.
Thank you for all the hours of staring patiently back at me as I tried to move the cursor across the screen and get these words out of my brain and onto the page. Thank you for not critiquing my clumsy metaphors in early drafts or lack of capitalization in virtually every single one of my poems.
Thank you for persevering. Thank you for accompanying me through college (and almost all the way through grad school!).
Do you remember when you crashed for the second time my junior year? When, it wasn't really your fault, but you lost every single last file/photo/mp3/short story/essay/poem off your silly little hard drive?
Yeah, I cried at the Apple store again that time. But, no, no, that wasn't your fault. It was mine. I was a bad mother, neglecting your hard drive and ignoring your memory issues.
I'll be better this time. I've learned.
Dear MacBook Pro-1, it's been real.
And bless you if you actually read all that.
Tomorrow's my birthday. I may or may not wear something glittery to work.
*Diamond Boards are my sorority's version of a paddle... excerpt ours are literally diamond-shaped. And totally dangerous when dropped from a certain height!