I sit in my office, which is about the size of a large closet, surrounded by technology that at one point in time used to be cutting edge. While their monetary value has since been eroded by newer and more sophisticated products, their functions are invaluable to me. While I am not without newer technology, I find it difficult to dispose of something that isn’t broken. The funny thing is, even if something does break, I still find it difficult to get rid of it. About sixty percent of my waking moments are spent in my office and the other forty is spent at work where I am surrounded by millions of dollars of technology. Needless to say, I am a geek and this is my lab.
Behind me and to my left, roughly about seven o’clock rests a printa-saurus from the mid nineties. Its style resembles that of a cinderblock and the weight of it bows the pressed wood bookshelf to near collapse. The bookshelf wasn’t designed to hold so much weight but I commend it for its endurance, and until it fails, I see no need for intervention. The two shelves below my vintage printer hold more relics of the past. Hundreds of CD-R’s that remain un-indexed and full of information, long forgotten by their creator, are arranged like buildings in downtown Chicago. The only difference, really, is that Chicago has better food.
Moving on to eight o’clock, there stands a small filing cabinet. I had good intentions when purchasing this hunk of tin, but it seems that you need to have a filing system in order for it to function efficiently. It is full of very useful manila file folders as well as tons of important documents. The filing system that I went with was: put the folders in the top drawer and stack the important documents in the shape of a mountain in the bottom drawer. For some reason, I can never find what I’m looking for; even though I’m sure that this is the whole point of a filing cabinet.
Next, we have nine and ten o’clock. Two non-functioning printa-sauruses, identical to the one at seven o’clock, are stacked neatly awaiting my precious time. When I eventually find the time, they will once again continuously jam and suck the life out of someone I love. Now, behind these Jurassic-era devices hides something resembling a storage area. This area actually holds every piece of computer equipment that I have ever owned. Old cases, power supplies, wires, cables, and components are organized by where they would fit. You actually risk your life when opening the door. I told my kids that this is where the monsters sleep, and if the monsters know that they know where the monsters are sleeping, then the monsters will have to take slumber under their beds. My kids stay out of there.
At eleven, twelve, and one o’clock sit four keyboards, three mice, and five computer monitors. I like to call this the Nebercanezzer from the movie “The Matrix”. Two laptops, one desktop, and one production server create the soothing sound of a harrier jet taking off vertically. The smell of hot electronics fills the air and pure sunlight beams from each screen, LED, and optical mouse. I find that it is optional to turn on the overhead light for two reasons: first, I could use the power savings on my electrical bill; and second, with all of these computers, who needs anything on paper?
Finally, and most importantly, at four o’clock, I have my Bunn coffee maker. This machine makes coffee in less than three minutes and is the main source of power that enables my lab to function. It operates a mere two times a day, but releases enough energy to keep things functioning for up to eighteen hours. Without it, all systems would fail and catastrophe would ensue. While I sit back in my severely used, broken down desk chair that uses an old pillow to replace the cushion that wore away over the past five years, I come to the realization that I am, in fact, a geek. I’m not at all surprised with this realization because I have suspected it for years. (The real surprise is that I find it extremely difficult to keep my ten point writing exercises, which require a minimum of 100 words, limited to a few short paragraphs. Whoever said that English classes were easy needs to be shot.)
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