Disconnected

My notebook has decided to turn the lights out on me. I was in the middle of sorting my pictures on my hard drive when the screen was reduced to about ten percent of it's normal brightness. The affect was similar to that of being in a dark room. You can basically make out the outlines of the bed and the dresser but you can't make out the details of the knobs and the handles. I found myself gently trying to cajole my notebook into normal mode, very much like a man would his favourite car. 'Come on, don't do this to me. Come on, you can do it,' I whispered. In a sense I wasn't totally off-course since my computer's gotten me to places much like a car would. (In fact, I think I've traveled farther than I would have with a car).I even stroked the screen several times in reflex as if there was a fog stopping me from seeing it clearly. I considered banging it several times on the table like you would a broken television but decided against it, recalling that banging a broken television does diddly squat to fix it. Now I'm relegated to gatecrashing other people's computer. In this modern day and age it may be insufferable to live disconnected from the internet. I've discovered that it's considerably worse to live disconnected from your own personal computer.