Return of the Mac
We had our first real day of ‘winter’ today. Not by any agreed upon standards, as used by Northern hemisphere peeps, but it was enough to trigger a clarion call for everyone to dust off their puffer jackets and figure out how to zip them up again.
I will miss Jo’burg ‘winters’. We high altitude South Africans have zero ability to endure weather that isn’t dry and balmy. If you ever want to conquer Johannesburg all your need is a bag of ice-cubes and a stiff breeze. Three days of rain will also do it though, because Johannesburg, although claiming to be water ‘resistant’, really isn’t. After three days (I’m probably being generous here) of moisture, everything will just stop working, the stuff that hasn’t subsided and slewed off the side of a donga* I mean.
*vernacular. Probably like a rut or a gully in other locales. Except deeper. And more likely to damage your rims when you plant your Land Rover in one. (Trust me I speak from experience)
In any event, where was I?
So things progress. I mean, they progress mostly sideways… but we’re chalking up any form of movement as a win.
I’m exhausted. The type of exhaustion usually reserved for mothers of a certain marital status (or lack their of). I’ve been a single parent of late. My wife is laid up with two broken feet. She has some shiny new screws and one especially long pin (that’s sticking out of the tip of her baby toe… and kinda reminds me of that wire that they used to manipulate bonsai). Well, I assume the screws are shiny. On the X-ray they just look like dry-wall screws to me.
I’ve been doing all the parenting! And it’s been hard. Like really hard! Seriously, all I do is feed people and drive them around.
Okay, typing it out like that makes it seem… less… arduous. I’m not used to it though. I like to imagine that our household is quite egalitarian, a household grounded on the fundamentals of fifty fifty workload.
But that’s not really true. My wife does most of the heavy lifting… while I… um… protect us from predators… and eh… hunt Wooly Mammoths. And also play Playstation.
So my life has been grim lately. Unreasonably so. I just want my wife to get better so that things can go back to before they were awful. I stop short of comparing my life to the holocaust though… because, well… it probably isn’t that bad.
In other news, we sold our house.
I’ve softened my stance on Real Estate agents. They’re not all shifty eyed charlatans with neary a college degree among them. Ha ha (I’m so funny). But in all seriousness, selling your home brings A LOT of really weird people out of the woodwork… (a lot of these are other Real Estate agents… who… I get the feeling would stab you in the pancreas for a nickel).. but a good real estate agent protects you from a lot of the Riff-raff. That perk alone is worth the fee. Not having to deal with gross, crazy people.
We also sold to people I like. Which is nice. I had this intense fear that awful, childless people were going to move in here… people that owned lots of cats and ate dinner on trays in front of the television and consumed… sport… or worse… reality shows.
But we sold to a really nice mixed race couple from Zimbabwe who have a six year old. My wife is a Rhodie… and I have a soft-spot for Zimbos who aren’t of the tyrannical leadership caste, so really, this made me quite cheerful. I’ve even convinced myself that I’m doing a good thing, letting them have my domicile for such reasonable remuneration.
Oh and then I bought a new MacBook because I was feeling sorry for myself…
… because I had to kill my Basset Hound. And then because this parenting thing is hard. And really, since smashing my previous MacBook I’ve just been sad. And yes, this chipped up marvel of… shiny back lit buttons really does make me happier.
I have quite a high end laptop that… well… because its so spec’d out is quite clunky and heavy, and you could never clack away on it while un-ergonimically supine, not without cooking your testicles from immense heat it generates. Which brings me quite a lot of joy. Clacking away I mean… while wedged into my sofa… not nuking my sperm factory. (Who knows it could still be useful one day)
The sales person asked me what sort of requirements I had. Its almost like he thought I had a job and was a useful member of society (it felt quite good). In any event I was embarrassed to say that I all I really needed was something that had a keyboard and could run a browser… I so want to be one of those cool Apple kids… that use their shiny MacBook Pros (in coffee shops) for the power of… eh… good.
Seriously what do those people do?
So yeah… I wasn’t just going to pick a bottom of the range MacBook Air. I needed this guy to think I was legit.
This is the power of Apple of products. They grip you by your insecurities and make you pay. It’s all so fantastically self-inflicted.
Of course, I also had to buy one of those… port… extension… thingies. Because the new MacBooks come with almost zero capacity to plug in anything. And then a Thule hardcase… because by now, I know I can’t own nice things and should probably at least try take some precautions against the inevitable snares of gravity (and its ilk).
So poor. But happier.
I should be back up to my old volume of posting soon. Now that I can type from anywhere. I know you’ve missed my witty commentary on all things mundane and Joey-centric.