the seduction of technology

Yesterday, when I came in to work, I had a new computer. Okay, I knew that would be happening. I expected to have to replace all the passwords on the Web sites I go to (for work purposes, mostly), and reconfigure my desktop organization. But what stopped me was the keyboard. My white, sleek ergonomic keyboard (keys divided into two halves, slightly tilted) had been replaced by a black, boxy model – without the ergonomic arrangement. Crisis!!! I had enough trouble training my typing fingers to work with the other arrangement years ago. And now, I had to switch back? I’m getting too old for these types of things.

All day, my brain was reeling from knowing what I had to do – my hands, for instance, itched to simply click on a photo to open it in Photoshop, but I needed to fish around and find out how to re-set the shortcut in order to make that happen, and sort of never found the time. Or, even worse, the 'insert' and 'delete' buttons on my new keyboard are were the 'home' and 'end' buttons used to be. It felt like one of my arms had been cut off, and I was trying to do everything right-handed. Very disconcerting.

I could, I suppose, e-mail the techie types and ask if they have another ergo keyboard that's compatible with the new hard drive. (do you suppose it's a plug-in thing? Or maybe it just came with it, so they passed along the goods?) But, here’s the rub – this new model has (sweet!) quick keys. The loving tap of one button will bring up an Internet explorer window! No more minimizing what’s on my screen, then finding the Internet explorer shortcut on my desktop! Heck, I don’t even have to touch my mouse AT ALL (for that purpose). Same for sending an e-mail. Or adjusting the volume on my headset! (though I haven’t quite figured out how to make that work. But, in theory, it COULD…) Oh, the blessed convenience!

Nope, there’s just no going back. My hands will simply have to remember how to deal with the cramped, linear typing keys. I’m addicted to convenience.