I wanted a MacBook he sent me a pen

So more than a month later it seems that splash of inspiring energy didn't last very long, it showed it's face for a short moment as if to say "I'm here aiiight , but don't go thinking Im gonna come around whenever it suits you lady...miss- I-need-inspiration-right-now.. " (said in a ghetto american accent of course..you might want to re read it to get the accent right in your head..just saying..)

Anyways, I've been saying I need a macbook.. because it's just not the same writing on someones else's computer, it doesn't feel the same. Opening your own macbook, with your favourite photo as a desktop background, with all your folders neatly arranged ...you look at it all and it feels like an extension of you. This is where you store your "you files". I know, it's terrible referring to a piece of technology as an extension of you, and it is a bit of an exaggeration, but if you look at what kind of relationship people have with their iPhones, you get my drift.
My birthday was a few weeks ago and a delayed birthday present arrived from mum.. no offence to mum, her gift was wonderful, but it was the gift from her man that made me think ..he sent me a pen. A good old pen in a box. The kind that gives you hand cramps. The shining new kind, blue and silver, very serious looking. You mean business with that pen. Here I am complaining to myself that I haven't got a laptop and he sends me a pen. That shut me up.

So here I am with my John Farnham mug filled with peppermint tea, looking at an empty notebook with a beautiful pen next to it...all whilst typing on my boyfriends MacBook...