An Empathy Problem
So, recently I’ve noticed something that I do that’s a little odd. It goes against every instinct of my curmudgeonly nature, but I am extremely empathetic towards machines.
I have a window unit a/c. The thing works its tail off. Cooling my gross old apartment. It’s not quite big enough for the footage (the a/c is small, my apartment isn’t big) so it has a lot of work to do. Well, who cares? It’s a machine. It doesn’t have feelings. It does what it was made to do, blow cold air.
But, every morning I wake up and I turn off the machine for an hour or so, giving it a well-deserved break*. Sure, that’s all fine and good. But, worse is the kind of stuff that I either say or think when I do it.
“Here you go buddy, time for a little breaky.”
“Wow, you must be tired, huh? Time for a rest.”
Sometimes pats are involved. Sometimes a wink and a nod. Either way, I’m very understanding of my a/c’s struggle and try to accommodate.
This doesn’t begin and end with the a/c though. I do it with all machines. I got in my car this morning, patted the steering wheel and said, “I missed you.” I hadn’t driven it in like 5 days, so it was a valid comment, but it’s a damn car. One that is falling apart despite my steering wheel pats and calm assurances.
The point of this post? I don’t know. I just had to get it off my chest. I am empathetic towards machines and I don’t care. Granted, this all might be because I live alone and am increasingly single.
*I also give breaks to ceiling fans, televisions, computers.
I give breaks to my laptop to. It works so hard for me, I feel like it deserves a little time powered down to recuperate. And sleep mode won’t cut it. It has to be off to get sufficient rest.