Irrationality Assumption

Freelance writing requires a digital workhorse, and my Asus netbook, running Windows XP Student Edition, is a tired old mule. It’s bluescreening out of spite and taking 30 seconds to like, open the control panel. I’m pushing it too far and too much, I know. It’s time for an upgrade. A rational person at this point  buys a new laptop and ends the story.

Here’s what I’ve done:

1. Research: My hacker cousin messaged me a list of laptops. Good start!

2. Budget: Consulted with the Budget Committee (my husband, Sal) and line-itemed the purchase.

3. Store: Fry’s Electronics, because they are nice to me. They have a rodeo theme. That’s quirky and fun.

This was all decided days and days ago. So why am I typing this blog on Mr. Bluescreen? Why am I flailing my arms at him, stomping around, making idle threats?

Why haven’t I bought a new computer?

It’s a phenomenon of purchasing behavior that economists have missed. I know this because there’s no sexy term for it.* It goes like this: you know you should upgrade a thing – you’ve calculated the benefit / cost ratio and rationally it makes sense. But the one-time hassle cost of the purchase looms in your perception as greater than the accumulation of 30-second mini agonies of your present, outdated thing. Neither self-awareness of your irrationality nor clear benefits of the upgrade are enough to push you to change.

What will ultimately propel me is an explosion of frustration. I predict it will be 3:00 am, midweek. I’ll floor it to Walmart, and buy the first computer I can see through the rage-fog and a pane of glass, to replace the one Mr. Bluescreen broke.

I sent this text to Sal 59 minutes ago:

“I can’t take it anymore. The 12 seconds between every bloody click are tiny eternities binding me in DIGITAL HELL! If we don’t update my laptop to one that works you may come home to find this netbook roped off in a crime scene!! AHHHHH SAVE ME FROM MYSELF!!! love u.”

I’m getting close.

 

*Feel free to correct me if there is a word for this phenomenon. I’ll use it, acting like I knew it all along.