Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: IT'S CHILD'S PLAY (06/06/19)
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TITLE: Purple Laptop | Previous Challenge Entry
By Betty Castleberry
06/13/19 -
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
I admit I’m an online addict, but I don’t have anything better to do most days. There’s only so much of my retirement time I can spend watering flowers and baking pound cake. My figure doesn’t need cake anyway, so I started giving them to the neighbors.
Speaking of that, I’m sure my neighbor was hiding in her living room when I tried to take her a pound cake. I saw her peeking through the curtains. Maybe it was because I left the vanilla out of the last one.
But never mind that. My computer was dead, so I went to Walmart and bought a purple laptop. I was assured I would have no trouble at all setting it up and certainly no trouble using it. A five-year old could do it, or at least that’s what I was told.
Excited, I removed it from the box and rubbed my hands together, anxious to be online again. After plugging it in to charge, I fiddled around with the mouse, moving my finger across the little square, getting a feel for it. I’d never used a built-in mouse before, but I’d watched others do it. It was going to be a breeze.
The first thing I had to do was type my name in a box; a simple task, or at least it should’ve been. I thought I typed Marilyn, but it turns out I actually typed Marlyn. That’s right. I misspelled my own name, but I didn’t realize it until I had everything all set up. By then, I didn’t know how to fix it. Figuring it was only me, Marlyn, who would see it anyway, I shrugged and decided to see if I could get online. I clicked the internet icon and logged onto Facebook. Eureka! There were my friends sharing pictures of their lunches.
I do have to admit it was taking a little practice getting used to the mouse after all. The keys were a little touchy, too. I didn’t have to bang on them like I did on my old computer. That’s why I made so many typos when I messaged my sister. I’m pretty sure she knew I meant she should replace her broken bowl instead of her broken bowel.
Next, I wandered over to YouTube to watch some gardening videos. My poor aim made the mouse meander over and click something I didn’t intend. I ended up watching how to apply makeup to disguise fine lines. The woman in the video wasn’t a day over thirty. Fine lines my left foot. Just wait until she really has “fine lines”, or worse, deep wrinkles, to worry about. I don’t care if I fill mine in with plumber’s putty, they’re still there. I didn’t mean to click on the instructional video on how to yodel either, but I guess I did. Maybe my neighbor would enjoy yodeling more than pound cake.
After I’d seen enough videos, I went to my favorite site, Amazon. I get a kick out of having things delivered to my door, so I joined Amazon Prime and order frequently. I perused the specials for anything I couldn’t live without, and wouldn’t you know it, the Deal of the Day was a triple pack of razors for sensitive skin. I clicked Add to Cart, but nothing happened. I clicked again and noted with satisfaction the shopping cart icon at the top of the page indicated it now contained one item.
Unfortunately, when I tried to use the mouse again, I couldn’t see the cursor on the screen. I moved my finger all over the mouse, around in little circles, up and down, and from side to side. Panicking, I tried again, and finally, the little arrow appeared at the top of the screen. Thank goodness. I was beginning to think I would need a priest to perform an exorcism on the mouse.
On the hunt again, I found a darling scarf I had to have, so I added it to my cart, or at least I thought I did. Instead, a bottle of aspirin appeared in my cart. No matter how desperately I clicked, I couldn’t remove it. I knew I could cancel the order, but maybe it’s meant to be. I think I’m going to need them. This laptop is giving me a headache.
Ecclesiastes 9:10 : Whatever your hands find to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom
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