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An Unintentional Homicide

By Beacon Staff

This morning I may have committed murder. Or, at the very least, assault. The victim plays many roles in my life – friend, personal assistant, co-worker, social liaison – and I certainly would never intentionally cause it harm. But, despite the victim’s seeming ability to meet my every need, it couldn’t prevent one thing: The fact that I’m a klutz. Yes, I may have killed my computer.

It all happened so quickly. One minute I was emphatically telling my coworker a story; the next minute, a tipping coffee mug, struck by an errant elbow, was sending hot water cascading over my laptop. I watched in horror as the screen went black. Transitions back to the workplace after holiday vacations are rarely smooth, but this? My carelessness must be a holdover from my gluttony-induced stupor of the past few days.

All that is left now is to wait and hope. Tomorrow, after the insides of my computer have hopefully dried out, I’ll get to try to turn it on, and will learn how much, if any, damage I’ve done.

It’s no surprise that now that my laptop is out of commission, I feel likewise hobbled. My notes for stories are on it. My calendar – the better, more efficient version of my memory – is on it. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss it.

But, for all the wonders of technology, I was reminded today how easy it is to destroy it. After my accident, reporter Myers Reece and I began swapping stories of how our friends, in various ways, had managed to kill different electronic devices. There’s his friend who shook out a pair of pants before taking a dip in a river only to watch his cell phone fly out of the pants pocket, land in the water and float downstream. One of my friends dropped her day-old digital camera in a parking lot and watched it get run over by an SUV. And, there’s my friend who dropped her cell phone out of her back jeans pocket into a toilet – twice.

If only my computer had a way to predict the stupid things I do. Had it truly known me, it would’ve recognized my history of klutzy behavior and been prepared. Wait…I suppose it was my responsibility to recall my accident prone history. My responsibility to Keriann-proof my workspace. I guess technology can’t do everything.