On becoming my computer

So I've been having some trouble catching a deep breath the last few days. I remember this feeling take over me at random times in my past. It's not a feeling of pain, just a bit of suffocation mixed with a whole lot of frustration. The end of the world? No. Once every couple of tries I can catch a good deep breath and I enjoy every second of it. Letting it go with some sort of satisfying sound that I hope it recognizes as the "come back soon" I am intending.

I went to yoga to force myself to take my mind off my breath, or my breath off my mind. Whichever came first really.

As I was bending into my pained and straightened legs it hit me.

I HAVE BECOME MY COMPUTER.

You know how I complain that it is fussy? A lot? Both my complaints and my computer's fussiness? While I can click click click click click click CLICK on that darn button to upload pictures and work myself into a mad frenzy, I dare to use profanities that even this "smart" machine can't understand and it, IT, draws a blank. Like it's looking at me and saying "well I just FORGET what that button's supposed to DO so LAYOFF". (I like to pretend my computer is a cranky teenager girl).

Then... wait. That click WORKED. What did I do? How did I get it to work that time? How many clicks did I need to click before this click understood me? How can I repeat this the next time I want a picture so I can just, well, GET my picture. What's the pattern here?

That's what my breath has become. I heave, and huff, and moan, and wince and WAIT. That one worked. I am breathing a deep breath. How many huff and moan combinations was that? Or was it a wince then a heave?

The trouble here is, I don't have the answer. To either of these finicky situations.

I am sitting here, frantically clicking and heaving and clicking and heaving.

Don't feel too bad for me. 'Cause even though I made a big salad for dinner someone else, who shall remain nameless, got home before me and ate it and I was forced to eat the coconut cake that Tese and I borrowed from Mr. G's freezer.

Oh! See! I knew she would listen.

MMMmmmm.