when you're fighting and feeling the winds of change

So. Yesterday morning I came into possession of one MacBook Pro. Now, I imagined when this moment finally arrived that I would, in absolute elation over liberating myself from PC purgatory, enthusiastically rip open the box and dive into the world of all things Mac. And yet, instead, the newly acquired Precioussss sat in its box while I glanced at it anxiously periodically over the day yesterday.

I had to give myself a lecture about how MacBooks are for non-techy doofuses like me. I had to give myself a lecture not to be a pansy and shrink at the word Pro. But finally, I had to give myself a lecture about how I will have enough things to worry about over the next few weeks, so I had to suck it up and open the thing up.

So I finally did it today, and everything in my life seems to have this message of late- what took you so long?!? In classic Apple fashion, the computer welcomed me and held my hand and told me everything would be okay. I'm surprised it didn't serve me milk and cookies and read me a bedtime story when I shut it down to charge. I told my cousin S today that I just had a love marriage with my MacBook, and she is welcome to inform my family. Maybe I can tell everyone I'm registered with iTunes.

Of course, I am still a tech wimp. I'm still writing this blogpost from the crap PC, and it's heating my knee such that I'm pretty sure I'll have to get treated for third-degree burns presently. I still have to figure out how to get all my files transferred and how to make my iPod talk to my new MacBook. Periods of transition are always a hassle. But it seems like I always factor in the transition period pains far more than I ought to. After all, the transition period is really a blink of an eye in comparison to the before and to the after.

And I have a whole lot of after coming up. The transition is almost at its end. And yet, I get the sneaking suspicion that many transitions lie ahead still. Lots of little waves to weather from this stretch of solid ground to the next island.

Oh, and a lot of last minute errands, phone calls, packing, and baking. Alert the presses if I make it to Monday without a meltdown.