My psych teacher’s voice went up a notch. “We have no free will. We are all driven by our Id, Ego, and Super Ego.” I knew what an ego was. You either had a big one (not good) or not much of one (too good to be true) or you had the perfectly balanced ego, the one like in the fairy tale that was just right.
As the talking head at the front of the room paced, fingering his Freudian beard, he explained what the Id and the Super Ego were, but by then I wasn’t listening. In order to pretend to listen, I made a note that if my Id or Super Ego was driving, not to get in the car, because they were dangerous strangers.
Believe it or not, I still got an A in the class.
Which brings me to the current part of this story. I wanted to write something funny today since my last flash fiction post was so sad. Unfortunately the A key on my computer is broken and my many attempts this week to get it fixed without my husband’s help have proven hopeless. I didn’t think I could write decently with the top of the key continuously flipping off & me pressing it on, over & over.
But, good news for the future! Hubby is coming Tuesday and bringing a new A key, which he bought online for $6. I’d gotten a couple of quotes ranging from $35 to $200. Is this because, like the car mechanics of old, I’m a woman and they saw me coming? Knew their ego was bigger than mine and they could take me, no problem? It’s been frustrating living without my husband for ten weeks, but living without an A key has been worse. I have not been typing much, not even commenting on social media.
I stopped working on my new novel and decided to print out the pages I’d done thus far. My printer ran out of ink after three pages. I decided to be bold and just save the document on my external drive. Which, I just now remembered, I have yet to do. External drives baffle me, but I believe in them because my husband, and also the salesperson who sold me one, says they’re good.
You won’t believe what happened just now. The top of the A key flipped right off (nothing new) and fell into the crevice of my chair, my fingers unable to retrieve it. So, will the oil from my fingers ruin this delicate machine as I strike straight into the guts of the key?
Probably, I should have tried to write something not using the letter A. I thought it would be too difficult, I thought the result might be possibly boring. Just doing one sentence without the elusive letter (written just previous) proved difficult enough. Hmmm. I’ve done three. Not enough to prove I’m clever, even with four. Even with my fine ego. (Five!)