Yesterday I visited the Apple store and gazed longingly at the MacBook Pro 17-inch notebook. Luckily for me, the stores in the mall had just closed because I swear I would have forgotten my resolve to only look. My credit cards were literally burning a hole in my pocket.
Why didn’t I buy? After all, I got the blessings from HB to get myself a Mac laptop. With a laptop I wouldn’t have any excuse why I couldn’t be a writer. And in my heart of hearts, I feel I need to get a Mac because I could do my design projects without having to be confined to my home office. Yes, I know I can still design on a PC, but my clients and I prefer the Mac. And that two additional inches does make a difference when working a on full page view of a layout—really!
(OK, I confess I also have this lovely vision of sitting in the shade by the koi pond working away to the lovely sound of water trickling on the rocks and sipping on iced tea-juice or being your stereotypical aspiring writer at a cafe.)
But I am wrestling with guilt combined with the need to justify the cost for this “luxury item.” After all, I am reminded that I could easily get three robust PC-laptops for the cost of my MacBook Pro. But none of the PC-laptops would come close to the sleek, light, powerful, environment-friendly MacBook Pro. (How can one ignore “The world’s thinnest and lightest 17-inch notebook” with “up to 8 hours of battery life”?)
I argue to myself—I’ve been a good girl. I’m doing the housecleaning, working out more regularly, and cooking more. I’ve avoided shopping for anything beyond the household requirements. For all sense and purposes, I deserve this treat, this lovely bauble—damnit Janet! Funny, a lot of gals obsess about clothes, shoes, accessories, and jewels, but this is my thing. That, and a high-efficiency washer and dryer with steam-cleaning and allergen-obliterating features. Nutty, I admit.
So I ask myself—am I ready to fulfill my end of the contract once I get this MacBook Pro? Will I write thousands of fantastic, money-generating articles and stories? Will I design award-winning, mega-income generating marketing collateral for my clients? And how about my propensity to knock things over and spill things—will this cure me of clumsiness?
Alas, there’s no guarantee that I will be an über-producer or that I will keep my lust object free from harm. Sadly, the laptop doesn’t come with a high-quality content generator, airbags for the CPU, shatterproof screen, or a waterproof keyboard.
Maybe I’m just enjoying torturing myself and overthinking things when I shouldn’t. Oh, what to do? Perhaps another visit will help me make up my mind. Or not.