Since I bought my beautiful ibook on 1 April 2003 it has been my constant companion. I love it. It is easily the best toy I have ever owned. I have never ever got excited about a computer before. But this one did everything, so stylishly, so easily, it was just gorgeous. It gave me music and photos, connected me to the world, stored all my notes about everything, organised me. I got a burst of joy every time I used it. Can a machine actually be a friend and a colleague? No, but it sometimes felt like it. I used it every day for three years, always for hours a day - sometimes for most of the day. It has had thousands of hours of use. It has a got a bit battered over the year.

A month or so ago, I bought a very funky new desktop machine to be my main machine. I connected it up to the laptop and it sucked everything off the laptop then reorganised it, so when I switched on the new one it was configured with everything and in the way I was used to (that's a cool Apple thing, by the way. Migrating to a new computer could not be easier). And then I tooled about with my groovy new machine for a few days and the next time I went to switch on the ibook it threw a jealous sulk. Broken. Now the repair shop has quoted me more than it's worth to repair it. So its time is up. I am grieving for it, sadly.

Seriously, I will miss it. I will replace it because life is no longer bearable without a laptop. But I will never forget my first Apple.

I know exactly how this guy feels.