I can't tell you how long I've had a laptop. It's been a long time that it's been my computer model of choice. I think maybe before or around the time I went to college? Which was 10 years ago. (Cripes.)
But like all computers over time, my much-loved Powerbook just wasn't cutting it for my increasing need for it to do more, and faster. So I did the inevitable: bought a new computer. But not just any computer. Not a laptop. A desktop. An iMac.
As I've grown into my career as a designer, I've developed the need for a little more so-called floor space on my monitor, and the added flexibility of a mouse over a trackpad.
And then I was hit with a realization. I would be using a mouse again. Which is fine. (And it's not just any mouse, but an Apple Magic Mouse, which is totally cool.) But you know what a mouse means right? A mouse PAD.
Ugh. I feel some kind of weird pressure that your mouse pad has to be cool but not geeky and somehow represent who you are. I was already fretting over having to pick one out before my computer even arrived. But then we went to Scott's parents' house last weekend for Memorial Day and he got into some old boxes of his stored in their garage. And he found one of his old mouse pads. And I kinda love it.
Firstly, Dr. Seuss is way cool. But the particular text on this mouse pad really has a deeper meaning for me. I've been struggling for a while with my confidence as a designer. And I have a new project on the horizon (more on that at a later date) that is forcing me to trust myself with my mouse. And to trust God with my mouse.
So would I, can I, with a mouse? Why, yes. Yes. I would. I can. I will. I will!