I wonder, is it nobler in the mind to suffer the blips and niggles of an outrageous computer, or to take virtual hammers against a sea of shut-downs and, by purchasing a new one, end them?

Twelve times: the hard drive clicked in that “I’ll do this all day if I have to” tone and refused to start twelve times this morning.

So the moment that finally I caught it on it’s lunch break and windows xp quietly opened without its noticing, I headed straight for Amazon and purchased its successor. Actually, it took rather longer than that. First of all I backed-up my more recent emails (taking the opportunity to delete 150 assorted offers of viagra, website traffic generators and motivational quotes of the week) before scouring the hottest deals in reliable dual core processing.

I shouldn’t speak too soon. I’ve been on here for the last three and a half hours and it’s been whining at me constantly. The new delivery arrives on Tuesday – allegedly. And I’m weighing the odds of completing this article before my words disappear in a puff of smoke.

If it had feelings, I wouldn’t, on this occasion, be troubled by the risk of offending them. It’s done far worse to me. It has to learn. I’ve warned it; it has five days left to prove itself.

But in one sense, I’m on a losing wicket. It knows what replacing a computer involves – it was once the celebrated replacement for an old one, of course. And despite the pathetic 850 mb of ram, it has, I’m sure, a long memory. I suspect it will have a quiet snigger to itself tonight while I’m asleep, at the thought of my enduring a further 36 hours of software installation. Moreover, it knows full well I first need to locate the IP codes for the broadband and all the other security passwords and drudgery which provide nothing but peace of mind in normal circumstances. Passwords are delightfully forgettable. They need no feeding or encouraging or training, yet look at them: up there defending privacy 24 hours a day. Single-handed!

Twelve times. It’s just more than one can stand.  I’ve started to feel a great deal of sympathy for the poor Prince of Denmark.  But there was one dilemma he never faced.  He never had a credit card.  His philosophy I recall was neither a borrower nor lender to be. Perhaps armies came cheap in those days.

Well, it seems I’ve reached the end of the page and whatever it is that’s rotten in the state of the hard drive still rattles.  Please bear with me – I may not be back for another week.