doodledee

Libby has a laptop now. It's sweet. Sweet as in better than mine in just enough ways that I'm almost-but-not-quite jealous. Kind of like how I feel about people who have satellite dishes. Sure, a lot of the time they're better than cable, but I'm still fine with what I've got, thankyouverymuch.

Anyway, tonight I needed to get some work done and seeing as it was much cooler on the porch, I went out there and sat in the comfy chair and put my feet up and enjoyed the semi-modern convenience that is wireless networking. (I say semi-modern because we're still on old-skool 802.11b.) Apparently immune to the heat, Libby just sat down at the dining room table and fired-up her machine right there.

His and hers never felt so liberating.

Then I sent her an instant message. At the time, I could see her through the window and we were no less than 20 feet apart. I would have only needed to slightly raise my voice to be heard. Doing so would probably have woken up the kid, sure, but that's not the point. The point is that intra-house messaging seemed okay when one of us was working on the computer in the basement and the other was upstairs, but I gotta admit that tonight I felt like I crossed some sort of bizarro geek line that maybe is better left uncrossed.

Unless you really really really need a refill and you know that she's way closer to the fridge than you are. In that case it's totally legit.