First I go to the page on the Apple Store, and I go through all the configuration options. I get to the last screen where I have to say Go For It, and back out. Invariably it's the lack of instant gratification that does me in.
Then, if I'm really interested, I go to an Apple Store and check it out. That's where guilt comes in. I really don't need this. I already have too many xxx's where xxx could be mouse, keyboard, router, phone, laptop, desktop.
Then I go to the Amazon page for the product and that's where my resistance meets its match. I go to the page one time and stare. Read the reviews. Think about it. Think some more. Leave. Then a day (or hour) later I'm back, staring at the 1-click button at the top of the screen. If I just click the button, it will be here tomorrow. If I just click the button. If I just click the button. Yadda yadda.
Then the thought metamorphizes. You know you're going to give in at some point and click the button. If you click it right now you can enjoy the product tomorrow! Turns out that's just the right amount of instant gratification. Not so much that I have to feel the guilt now, that gets postponed a few hours. And by the time it arrives, the guilt has been replaced by acceptance.
This thing is going to be part of my repetoire now. Part of my chorus. My supporting cast. One of my fellow team members. Posse. If it's a computer or a router I'm thinking about its name. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do with the old version of whatever it is I'm buying. I'm getting good at mothballing these suckas.
Anyway, I write all this today because yesterday I went through the last two stages of the ritual on the new MacBook Air. I bought an 11-inch laptop (still not ready to call it a netbook), with 128GB of disk. I'm thinking of giving it an ironic name like Hooterville or Green Acres, because it's such a big city computer, so slick, might as well make light and give it the name of a bumpkin. Maybe Mr Haney or Arnold The Pig?