State of My Sanity v. Steve Jobs: Round 3 (or 4 Im loosing count)

Dear Steve (Jobs for those who don’t know; I am now on a first name basis with him in my head),

It seems to me that you continue to find yourself at the top of my shit list. I am intrigued. Is it a nice place to be? Do you have the disillusion of getting rewarded for this? It has been proven and a known fact people go out of their way daily to stay off of that list, but you don’t seem to understand the magnitude of my wrath. I would imagine it to be more like the 7th bowel of hell rather than Disneyworld, but then again you just might be a masochist, which is something we have in common. Nonetheless, I am still puzzled as to why you want me to loathe you so much. I am trying very hard here and you leave me no choice but to bash you as the completely genius asshat that you are.

But of course I will allow kicking myself (once) for not knowing better. I should understand how your company works by now. I lucked out when you came out with the new Nano (even though you waited a good six months before coming out with the pink one which saved me the stress of trying to decide between the luscious cranberry that supports a noble cause and the typical- everything- I- own pink) and I should have known my luck would run out especially with our very reliable hit or miss history.

But dammit. I implemented amazing patience and self control, if I do say so myself, when I waited a good two months before purchasing my (still unnamed btw) Macbook. You alone have further proved my theory on instant gratification (and that only being, if I would have gotten my Mac when I wanted it the new product would have never come out and I would still be happy and not writing you, yet another, piece of hate mail- why can’t you understand! I want to worship you with a Steve Jobs Apple Shrine. I want to have your genius children- a little more than I want to bare the children of the Google creators I might add. I want to tattoo your internationally recognized icon on my forehead and scream your praises from a mountaintop. Why won’t you let me?!)

And what makes me even angrier is I just got finished transferring all my data from my PC to my Mac and got it organized. During this process, I sacrificed an entire playlist that I did not have on my computer for the greater good of the Mac. That was painful, but alas you do not care. You obviously do not have to because along with being the spawn of Satan, the caring gene is not in your DNA.

I am still confused as to whether I want to punch you or kiss you. Our relationship is the epitome of a love/hate one and I think it will continue in that fashion until you stop doing dumb shit to piss me off. You seriously hurt my heart, Stevie, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep putting myself into this very self-destructive situation.

Until next time.

Sincerely,

NQ.