Mouse Snob

My work mouse is always a trackball, has been for years. Something about quickly darting between terminal windows is fluid since most of my work is keyboard. But at home I spend equal time between gaming and photo manipulation. Often which mouse works for which application doesn't coexist within a single mouse, but I've made do with adjustable DPI settings. I've owned expensive mice and cheap mice both. There was a time in the distant past where that made a difference on the lifespan, but that time has long passed, so I relegate myself to a combination of fun and functionality. But in the high-turnover of design, it is difficult to purchase identical replacement mice when one finally goes out.

It all started with (what is now called the) Basic Microsoft Wheelmouse. I did so enjoy that design. Have probably had half a dozen. From there, I migrated to the Cyborg R.A.T.³ - my favorite mouse during the early naughts. Sadly, my joy was abruptly replaced with contempt when an RMA replaced my beautiful limited-edition mouse with a generic which a series of emails couldn't correct, but in its ashes, lessons learned.

I now prefer a specific style of mouse; colorful, but not via LED; wired, but only with braided cable; the fewest number of extraneous buttons as possible, and a thumb rest. More recently I was enamored with Razer's Deathadder. Competitively priced for frequent replacement though it lacked the color palette and thumb rest, it was a delightful mouse - I always bought white for my Mac and black for my Windows. As often happens during this tumultuous time of late-stage Capitalism, they started selling the Deathadder without the braided cable - yet same description and price - and lost me as a frequent buyer.

I've since purchased two from Amazon which met all of the above criteria - an INPHIC variation they no longer manufacture, and an ATTACK SHARK they do - the latter with a new feature I adore, the ring-finger rest on the upper right side. As this is the one which currently requires replacing, coupled with the fact that it is still available, I'll purchase another. I did notice a new old-style mouse which caught my eye, the LOFREE PBT. Sadly, the reviews are rife with descriptions of being far too small for regular use. Perhaps, if this is trend which continues, we'll see more retro mice being designed and sold, and if I'm lucky, one made for more average-sized hands.

2025 - Third Session

We delved straight into Chasm with my updated thoughts on the matter:

I not only know the rope itself isn't real, but also that the things in which it's tied; where the rope leads, are also not real. Furthermore I know that once I choose to let go of the rope, the very idea that I held onto it for so long will be ridiculous to me - I'll actually be embarrassed I held onto it for so long knowing none of it was real - that it doesn't even *exist* and yet I fought so hard to keep my grip upon it. I know that once I let go I will truly be free to take action, to breathe, be unburdened, and to move forward in a direction of my choosing. I know these things to be true, but yet I still hold on. I now wonder why I am holding on so tightly? I can already tell you I will let go once I figure that out - once I figure out the, "why."

I'm thankful I have Tess as my therapist, because I'm not easy to manage. I will argue the most pedantic points with her if I can find any flaws in her logic. Not everyone is open to that, but Tess doesn't really give up. So it was today, during a Q&A when she was asking leading questions to some end only she knew; assessing everything I was saying without appearing to do so. Jennifer had mentioned my Cass dream Glass, which she added to her thought process before telling me, "Loss. You're holding onto the rope to not experience more loss. This is what you fear. You've been cut so many times - the severing of relationships - you're holding on to not lose any more than you already have."

I didn't argue.

I didn't protest.

I didn't scoff.

Surely she must've hit upon something, because instead, I cried.

Crying has become a fairly recent (and recurring) pastime over the last couple of weeks. Don't get me wrong, it's not unwelcome - I'd written of my desire to cry; to get it out; to cleanse myself - but hadn't been able to. I'd even put a plan in place after hearing Cass had watched Violet Evergarden the other day. I've weeped every time I've watched it, even knowing what's coming, so figured that would be a wonderful vehicle to facilitate my tears. I may yet do that. "You have the why," Tess said.

Indeed I did. I wasn't expecting to, but I did. I have no more excuses.

Now I just need to figure out how.