I snatched the little bugger out of its hiding place and did a little dance. Why, look at that, I marveled. It’s wireless! My smile stretched from ear to ear.
Ladies and gentlemen, you must understand: this kind of thing just doesn’t happen to me. Ever. Especially at this point. By now, if I’ve been lucky enough to find a forgotten or misplaced item, I’ve long since shelled out the money for a new one and either worn it or used it — thereby invalidating any return policy. That’s how this is supposed to work.
So this was big. On a par with finding Atlantis. For me, anyway.
Off I hustled to my computer and the business of connecting the two, but I couldn’t pull it off. The mouse wasn’t showing up as ‘discoverable.’ There, I thought, this is more like it and the world settled back into its proper orbit. Life went on — mouseless, yes, but comfortingly familiar.
Until I bought batteries, something I did on a whim yesterday. With that one simple, mundane purchase, computing took a dramatic turn for the better. I’d forgotten how easy navigating documents could be. Suddenly I’m again zipping around my display at will, pointing and clicking. I’m free from the tyranny of that dull, insensitive, stubborn, willful, annoying trackpad. Viva la mouse.
Miracles, it seems, are battery-operated. Who knew? Yay, Duracell! (And thanks.)
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