I vow to stay up on the job and my muddle, but I soon acknowledge that some of this technology appears to be beyond my mental reach. Practice and patience are keys in developing special word processor skills. I must constantly hone those.
I like to blame my laptop for this scourge of complexity, feeling as if when I close the lid it determines ways to conspire against me, ready for the next opening. My son-in-law has pronounced that a laptop is free of emotions and reactions, but I am not so sure of that. Knowing how it winks and blinks and causes my work to vanish into corners and crannies.
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