Something Borrowed

I have this borrowed notebook for the rest of the weekend. Though it was meant for serious work, I simply couldn’t resist the temptation of blogging on it. Writing on a notebook is the ultimate ritual for a true writer. Or at least I was brainwashed into believing that thanks to that HBO hit the DVD version of which I’ll never be able to stop rewatching. Though this is not a Mac and I’m nowhere near size minus two, at this very moment as my fingers move across this ThinkPad, I do remind myself of Carrie Bradshaw.

This isn’t to say that the reason why I’ve been drooling over the idea of owning a laptop is just to play Carrie. I do have some solid rationale to back up my absolute need for a laptop:

One: I don’t have a desk. In the typical tin-can-sized apartments in Hong Kong, the space for a desk is definitely a luxury. And having a desk is the basic requirement for having a desktop, no? Hence I pronounce myself an unsuitable candidate for a desktop. But, I do have a lap, a hell of a big one too.

Two: I work best on my belly. My brainwaves seem to transmit most seamlessly to my fingertips when I work on the comfort and in the privacy of my bed. No desk or desktop system can allow me to do that.*

Three: I need to look cool. For a writer of the 21st century, a chic laptop is a only a basic fashion accessory.

I've been eyeing a new Toshiba model, for which I'm entitled to a student discount. I might very soon be making my biggest purchase yet.

* Case study on hand: it took me less than 30 minutes to wrap up this blog. If I had been writing on a desktop I’d now still be on the second paragraph. See what kind of an efficiency booster a couple more thousand dollars can buy?