Riding a Donkey upgraded to a Racehorse

  True Story of Financial Delusion and Accidental Upgrading

Last year, on the way to Disneyland—back when my bank account was still breathing normally and not whispering its final prayers—I casually mentioned to Rob, “I need a new laptop.”

Just a simple comment.

A passing thought.

A gentle breeze of an idea.

Fast‑forward to December.

The Month of Doom.

Insurance due.

Taxes due.

Christmas shopping.

My budget wasn’t just tight—it was gasping, clutching its chest like it had just run a marathon uphill in flip‑flops.

Every time I swiped my Discover card, I swear I smelled smoke.

The friction alone could’ve powered a small generator.

Then Rob—sweet, helpful, financially dangerous Rob—asked:

“Want to go look at laptops?”

I said yes.

But inside?

Inside I was screaming NOOOOOO, sliding down a wall in slow motion like a dramatic soap‑opera heroine.

I told myself,

I’ll just look. I’ll find the one I want, and when my bank balance is no longer on life support, I’ll come back for it.

Sure.

I only fooled myself.

We walked into Micro Center, and Rob immediately said:

“This is the one Chad recommended.”

Chad, who works there.

Chad, who knows all the secret after‑Christmas discounts.

Chad, who probably has a key to the vault where they keep the good deals.

Meanwhile, I’d been running around on a slow little donkey of a Chromebook.

Bless its heart.

It tried.

But it was basically a digital pack mule with asthma.

And then…

I walked out of that store with a racehorse of a laptop.

Sixteen gigs of RAM.

One terabyte of storage.

A processor so fast it could probably predict the next Powerball numbers.

I don’t game.

I don’t need a gaming laptop.

I barely need a laptop that can handle more than two tabs without fainting.

But here I am—owner of a machine so powerful I may need to hire a jockey just to show me how to ride it without getting thrown off and bruising my pride.

My budget?

Still in the ICU.

But at least now I can type at the speed of light while it recovers.