A Day in the Life of my Laptop

So, dear readers, I was a part of a class that frequently gifted me with prompts and ample time to write. I was asked to write from an inanimate object's--the ultimate form of personification. Ah, English classes. 

So, here it is. A day in the life of my long-suffering, sweet, poor, wonderful (have you forgiven me yet?), laptop.

  

Dear Reader,

There’s one special girl in my life, and like most relationships where you know you need to leave and just can’t, she treats me like crap. 

She knocks me around, throws me in her backpack, jogs around, uses me up into the dead of night, and forgets my charger so I go into repeated emergency shut-downs. Not to mention she hammers on my keys like she’s trying to carve a stone fresco out of my plastic.

Sometimes she lets me sleep on her, but that’s more from passing out while surfacing my face for internships than actual affection. Plus she’s a messy sleeper, so she ends up throwing me off the bed somewhere around 3:00 in the morning, sleeping peacefully in her sheets while letting me crash face first onto her chair. 

She bought me a bed table to try and avoid that, but being who she is, she manages to knock us both off.

So why don’t I leave? Why don’t I just stand up, tell her I’m worth more than this, that I won’t take any more of her abuse, and walk out of her life forever?

Well, sometimes she treats me like gold. Holding me to her chest, clutching my sides with her soft hands. Sometimes, she’ll even encourage me when I’m having a rough time loading, or let me rest in her bed with her as she sleeps.

That, and I don’t have any legs. 

Honestly, I think my laptop's not being fair. I mean, I give it a home, and what does it want from me? Better treatment? Pssh!

So how about you guys? How do you think your laptop/iphone/table feels about you?