Ah, another fabulous day of unemployment. Despite my best effort to find work, I’m left only with a few household chores and my overactive imagination to keep me busy throughout the day. I could be a writer or I could be a wanna be writer. I chose writer. So here I am, in my mother’s living room, setting up my computer. It takes a while to boot up so while it is going through its mechanical motions, I decided to see what’s on television. I can’t explain why but my creative juices seem more willing to flow when I have background noise.
Sadly, the only thing on television were soap operas and talk shows. I’m not interested in either. Thank God for Netflix. I turned on my mother’s Xbox and began flipping through my instant queue when I heard a strange voice.
“Excuse me. Ah. Hello.”
I jumped off the couch and just about knocked over the stand my laptop was on trying to find the voice.
“Nice going, dumbass! Why not just throw me on the floor. Then maybe your husband will have to buy you a new laptop and you’ll finally get the Apple you’ve been wanting. Yeah don’t think I don’t know about that dirty little secret.”
Stunned. “Who’s talking to me?”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t your alternate personality. Listen little miss thing. Your ego is way too big to fit another personality in that fat head of yours.”
I look around the room. Under the sofa, under the chair. But I can’t find where the voice is coming from.
“This really isn’t supposed to be a game of hide and seek, ya know.”
“Great. Just Great. The voice I’m hearing has an attitude.”
“The voice with an attitude is coming from right in front of you. And I’m not talking about the flat screen on the wall. She’s a snooty little bitch. Won’t do shit unless you have opposable thumbs to operate her remote.”
Oh my God. Tell me I’m not hearing my laptop talking to me. Slowly, I looked over and down at my screen. The internet was up and my homepage was set to Yahoo! like always.
I shook my head, “Nah. I just need coffee….or sedatives.”
Just then the screen on my computer began to flash, “Yeah yeah. Denial. I get it. Hey listen, are you actually going to do something with me today or am I just another accessory for the living room?”
My eyes widened, “Forget the sedatives, I need to be locked up in the psychiatric unit of a hospital.”
“Well before the men in white come with the straight jacket would you please, for the love of microchips, turn me off before you go.”
“Sure, sure,” I would wait for my mother but maybe I need to call 911 because I’m pretty sure this is not normal.