Life without a computer

Our trusted laptop has finally stopped working. It was one of those kinds of things that survived only due to lack of competition (it was the only one we had in Vancouver) but went on to flourish in terms of other functionalities (it was our most accesible excuse for cursing the whole wide world). The recently deceased sported 256MB of RAM and a 1.0GHz Celeron processor. You get the idea. Right now we're desperately hunting for a new computer with the zeal of homicidal cults seeking new recruits from orphanages posing as endearing parents. It isn't proving very fruitful, and we've discovered that buying a computer in Dhaka was a hell lot cheaper (repeat: hell lot cheaper) and certainly less complicated. In other words, I'm at a loss. My legs refuse to move when I'm walking, my eyes have sunk deep into their sockets for the weight of many unshed tears, and my gloomy attire has so far been ignored by my dear friends only because they're familiar with my absent-mindedness, which in turn is fast becoming stuff of legend. How on earth does one survive without a computer? What light be light if it doth not glow from a screen? I'm still amidst suffering, but yesterday Tina lit up my life by buying me a Linux magazine from Chapters. That joy alone is keeping me on my feet. Another way, I guess, of life's reminding me that things can't make you feel priceless. People can.