Gizmo Guy bought another computer last night (This makes what? #10 or 11?) It’s another Mac – this time a G4 Desktop with a HUGE – and I’m talking 70 pound/30 kilogram – professional quality LaCie Electron Blue 19 inch monitor. It used to belong to a graphic artist who left it loaded with all the software the professionals use to design websites, graphics, newsletters, etc. So now I have Adobe Professional – I can make and edit PDF files. It has the entire CS2 suite – Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign so I can make graphics/banners galore. Oh, all, right I won’t, because I have no graphic abilities – I’ve offered Curly money to make me banners and design a newsletter for me. It also has Final Cut Pro, which is what the boys use in Media Arts to create their professional-quality movies. Yeah, like I’m going to be using that. I think more money will be changing hands as I hire Curly and Guitar Hero to make me book trailers. Or maybe I’ll just stay on the PC and use Roxio.
Since there is not room enough to turn around in our tiny 8×8 office, Gizmo Guy has declared we will put this one in the living room where I can work undisturbed. Folks, that’s a fairy tale. Not the living room, the undisturbed part. When Gizmo Guy worked from home and declared the
closet room we designated as an office as ‘his office’ my computer was moved to the living room. Where everyone and their mother/brother would stop off on their way to the kitchen or bathroom. Given the nature of what I write and the appetites of two then-teenaged boys, that meant every five minutes I was having to shrink down my screen when someone meandered past and asked “How’s the writing going?” It took me 18 months once GG went back ‘out there’ to work before I could convince him to allow me to move my computer back into ‘his office.’
At the moment the computer is on an old printer stand in the family room, but it’s blocking the door to the garage so it can’t stay there, not that I want it there anyway. So I’m left wondering if GG bought this computer in a passive aggressive move to reclaim ‘his office’ or if I should be turfing him out to work in the living room.
To borrow a phrase from the Godfather (and You’ve Got Mail), it may be time to “go to the mattresses” and defend my territory.