COMPUTER SAYS PROCRASTINATE

I went into my study this morning, bouncing, full of ideas for a new short story and turned on my computer.

It had a message for me.

COMPUTER: I NEED TO SCAN FOR TROJANS (OR SOME SUCH).

I had no idea what Trojans would be doing so far from Troy, but being a nice kind of guy I say yes.

It starts scanning and I enthusiastically start up my writing program. This, of course. is now running very slowly because of the search for those ancient warriors.

But I soldier on (pun intended) at about one key-press every five seconds until before I know it, the PC has decided it needs to update something.

COMPUTER: MAY I UPDATE SOMETHING PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE.

I sigh. But the computer has asked very politely so I say yes, and try to hold onto my enthusiasm as I go back to my writing.

COMPUTER: PLEASE CLOSE ALL OTHER PROGRAMS WHILE THE UPDATE TAKES PLACE.

So I say yes, being a nice guy, though getting nastier by the minute. And I stop writing, close my writing program, cross my arms and wait.

COMPUTER: UPDATE COMPLETED

Thank you, I say, and boot up my writing program again, still eager to create, though slightly less eager than I was half an hour ago.

WRITING PROGRAM: I SEE SOMETHING HAS CHANGED.

Ye-e-s, I say, warily.

WRITING PROGRAM: WHICH MEANS I NOW NEED UPGRADING TOO

Go ahead, I say, through gritted teeth.

And sit, waiting, arms crossed, watching the little blue progress line crawl slowly across the screen.

Finally, the writing program is satisfied with its upgrade. I try to remember what it was I was so excited about writing and open it up again.

COMPUTER: JUST SCANNING FOR VIRUSES. YOU MAY CONTINUE WORK.

Thank you, I hiss at the screen, so loudly that my cat wakes in a fright and runs out of the room.

I try out a few words, hammering rather more heavily at the keyboard than I was before.

And now the processor is working so hard I’m lucky if I can type a word a minute and the cursor looks like it’s struggling through porridge.

I tell the computer I’d be happy if I never see another communication from it, ever again.

It takes me literally.

Suddenly, with no warning, in mid-paragraph, the machine starts shutting down.

COMPUTER: RESTART TO INSTALL NEW CHANGES – NOW/LATER

Later, I shout.

COMPUTER: TOO LATE, RESTARTING NOW

What! I shriek. And try to turn it off to stop it.

COMPUTER: TURN ME OFF NOW AND YOU’RE TOAST ALONG WITH EVERY STORY DRAFT YOU’VE EVER WRITTEN. AS FOR EMAILS, DON’T EVEN THINK YOU’LL SEE THOSE AGAIN!

Now it’s rebooting. I stare at the black screen. Time slows to a crawl and all my early morning enthusiasm for the craft of writing is long forgotten.

The fact is, even when I don’t procrastinate I have a computer to do it for me.

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