05 september 2020
Spent this morning cleaning up some keyboards. Not anything really collectable, notable, or rare. One is an Apple USB keyboard that originally came with the original iMac, the other is a Dell Bluetooth keyboard that I've had for ages (I'm typing on the Dell right now).
My work issued keyboard was truly terrible - it was one of those flat Logitech ones that were absolutely painful to type on. My current work keyboard is a cheap gaming keyboard with imitation Cherry MX Blues and really nice trans-flag-colored keycaps. It makes me so happy to sit down and use it.
I've been diving deep into the rabbit hole of mechanical keyboards and come to the realization that I've got a lot of underrated keyboards in the house that I've got emotional attachements to.
This thing where I take out old stuff, clean it up, and put it to use is something that tends to come up around my birthday every year. I'm turning 43 this year, and there's some amount of pressure in my brain to justify my being - what use am I? There's a reality that I'm of course just perfectly useful and valuable in and of myself as I get older. It's a thing to wrestle with every year, and I don't expect to ever figure it out or fully silence that voice.