I had a computer called Lucy - a lot of us did back then. From the abyss of black, fluorescent green commands scuttled across the monitor as she booted up.
I could control the world with one word. "Run."
A myriad of commands would play out my desires. World domination unfolded in my imagination while the floppy disk spluttered and coughed like my father's Cortina on a frosty Irish morning.
I soon got the hang of global connectivity, although a brief spell in Wellsford with nothing more than dial-up and letter writing was a nightmare. I learned to live without technology, reluctantly.
Years later, I'm unable to sit still on the sofa with my husband.