This Thursday, I finally took the plunge and switched from Windows 8 to Windows 10. My computer had been bugging me to upgrade my system for nearly a year, but I had continued to dig my heels in and had firmly resisted the threat of change. It was only on the eve of the expiration of Microsoft’s free upgrade deal that I reluctantly gave in.

I backed up every single thing on my computer by saving it to my external hard drive, closed my 559+ open Google Chrome tabs, said a prayer, and allowed my computer to proceed and change my operating system. I had taken precautions by clocking out on time but staying later at work so that I could use the computer lab if I needed anything during the update, though the installation actually went faster than I had expected. When the computer was done I was surprised to find that it was a pretty decent upgrade. A lot of features that I had found redundant or annoying had been removed, and switching to the new system forced me to explore some of my laptop’s features that I hadn’t used before. It is now a few days since then, and I still haven’t had any problems with it. Except one.

For a solid two hours after the upgrade finished, I couldn’t use the scrolling feature on my mouse pad.

I could no longer use two fingers to scroll through web pages, folder contents, or anything else. Instead, any time I wanted to scroll, I was forced to resort to caveman methods—using the down arrow or moving my mouse all the way to the slider bar on the far right side of the screen, clicking, and dragging until I reached the area that I was looking for. It was awful. I became moody and frustrated, and I’m pretty sure I started going through the five stages of grief over my lost scrolling function. It was only after I uninstalled and reinstalled a certain driver (for the second time) that it finally went back to normal. After two hours of scouring webpages and videos on “mouse not scrolling windows 10” (and all of its variations), the problem was fixed and everything was once again right in the universe.

(As you can hopefully tell, I was acting like a spoiled child.)

I hate computer problems. Hating computer problems isn't so out of the ordinary. In fact, everyone I know hates computer problems. They remind us that the technology that we've come to rely on has its flaws. Computers and the internet have become inextricably intertwined into the very fabric of our society, and unlike drugs or alcohol. It's impossible to quit the black hole of unproductivity that threatens whenever you open your computer, since our little portals to the internet have become so vital to us. It would be like trying to quit drinking water. Even in college, professors (okay, the ones that are considered "hip" and that are complying with the college's policies) are doing almost all of their grading and a large portion of their teaching online. You could even go to college online, without even having to take a step outside your front door (and probably saving yourself a boatload of money, but I digress).

We "NEED" computers for almost every assignment in almost every class and for almost everything we do. This makes it almost impossible to cut down on screen time, at least for me. It's almost like it's become a crutch. For every day I spend without using my computer (which I try to do from time to time, usually if I've been feeling very unproductive) I spend another full day before that, trying to make sure that I can complete all my plans without the need of my laptop or the internet.

Don’t get me wrong. Technology is a wonderful thing. Computers are wonderful things. Even the internet is a wonderful thing. And technology can be used for good, as shown by the recent release of Pokémon Go! (which, despite the numerous issues and problems it created, is a perfect example of how new technology can be used in ways that people never dreamed of in years past). But the problem here is that the more wonderful something is, the easier it is for it to become something horrible. Modern medicine—illegal drug usage. Cars—automobile accidents. Stable governments—red tape and bureaucracy. Sex—rape and sexual abuse. Love—heartbreak and disappointment. The list goes on and on and the same is true with computers.

They open doors to easy identity theft, pornography and media addictions, and can make it easy for us to waste a lot of valuable time. I've been on my computer for hours and hours for nearly every day of this month. Part of that is because it's summer and I have a lot of downtime at my job, but it's hard for me to remember when I last did something without technology in the background. I watch shows while I cook and eat, and the computer is one of the last things to go off, right before I go to bed. It's becoming hard for me to remember when I last did something beneficial for me that didn't involve a computer. When was the last time I painted something? When was the last time I went for a walk just for the fresh air or wrote someone a letter? When was the last time I read my Bible? Have I ever spent as much time reading my Bible as I spend on my computer during an average day?

This week I got to thinking, what would happen if I suddenly stopped using computers? I'm pretty sure my life would become a lot simpler... and a lot harder. I would have to call my parents on my phone and I wouldn't be able to see their faces without Skype. I wouldn't be able to send them messages. I wouldn't be able to keep in touch with friends that I communicate with mostly on Facebook, or at the very least I would be forced to find new ways to communicate with them. I'd have to buy a typewriter or start writing everything by hand. I wouldn't be able to look up a book at the library--I'd have to have someone else do it for me or skim the shelves until I found something that looked promising. I wouldn't be able to pay my bills or taxes.

(I know that there was some way of paying them before computers took over, but I wouldn't know how to find that way, since I wouldn't be able to look it up on the World Wide Web, and I'd feel pretty useless without Google). My life would come to a standstill. I would be forced to contend with the fact that computers I have allowed computers to become something that I rely on. Computers are not supposed to be a necessity. They are a privilege that I, sadly, would have a very hard time getting over.

And yet, there would be a lot of things that would get better about my life if I took a step back from computers. I would value my time with people more since access to my friends and family would be much more limited. I would value information more since it would be harder to locate easily. I would end up filling my time with things like books and the hobbies that I've been neglecting in favor of Netflix and Facebook. Without the constant influx of data and stories from the internet, I would have to entertain myself more and my mind would have to become more creative--which is something that is very important to me.

Coming back to the real world now, since this post is already long enough, I most likely won’t stop using my computer. It's unrealistic to completely unplug from the modern world unless you have a very good reason, such as testing your resolve over a short amount of time or avoiding technology for religious reasons. However, from now on, I will try to work harder at valuing computers, technology, and my time. Hours slip by very quickly when you’re binge-watching Netflix, and it's not fair to my friends, my family, myself, my education, or even our society for me to let myself waste so much time staring at a screen.

In addition, from now on I'll try to avoid taking computers for granted. In some ways, I’m glad that I had that computer problem. It reminded me that computers are a privilege, not a right. They aren’t something that you should base your life around. So while I still love being able to scroll using two fingers and a mouse pad, and while I will probably always hate computer problems, from now on I'll try to remember that real problems are when we rely on computers too much and when we allow them to take up too much of our lives.