Kate Stewart: Farewell to my faithful Lappy who knows all my secrets and dark thoughts

I woke up and immediately glanced at the pillow next to me.

I felt my blood run cold as a sense of dread encapsulated me like a duvet of death. Instinctively I knew there was a corpse lying next to me.

I tentatively reached out ... it was cool to the touch, lacking all colour and in full rigor. Although I knew it was senseless, I poked and I prodded and re-positioned her. I even spoke words of encouragement, all in a futile effort to bring my dear, dear friend back to life.

We had been virtually inseparable from the day we met. That blank look on her screen haunted me. I gently closed it and just lay there in shock.

How could my beloved Lappy leave me this way?

The next 48 hours were a blur.

For the first 24 I never told anyone of her passing. I left her where she lay, staring at her, willing her green eyes to blink at me, ever hopeful I would hear her reassuring hum once more.

Lappy died the holder of my deepest secrets and most personal of thoughts. She'd been with me for every email, every column, every binge watching session. My heart was growing as hard as her drive use to be.

She had always been a bit moody from day one, but I never tried to change her. I embraced her quirks and found a way to work around them. Many would have wanted her "fixed" but I grew to love her imperfections. They were part of her personality.

Yes, we had words from time to time and I admit losing my temper. Some days she would be sluggish or defiant but I never resented her for it nor did I ever abuse her in anyway. She patiently put up with my taste in music as I forced her to play many songs over and over, relentlessly testing her speakers. I think Andrew Bird's track Oh No was her favourite. A song as beautiful and unique as Lappy herself.

We certainly made memories together and I'm so grateful I'll always have those, but now four days after her passing it was time to say goodbye.

I phoned John Parnell, Computer Coroner, who kindly offered to collect the corpse and perform an autopsy. I needed to know why Lappy died, so young. I offered any usable organs for donation.

He also delivered my new PC. I know, I know ... I felt disloyal, replacing her so quickly. Call it a rebound if you must but these electronic devices have all but become an extension of us. Our lives are literally contained within them.

John called back with the cause of death. It was like a slow suffocation. No cooling pad combined with a mega-clogging of cat and dog hair, inhaled over time. It was preventable. No one ever told me a cooling pad would add years to her life. Lappy died at my hand and I will forever have to live with that.

I'll miss those highly scientific internet quizzes most of all. Together Lappy and I discovered I was Genius, psychopath with a photographic memory and a knack for solving brain teasers, but I needed her to do it.

I murdered my Lap Top and should pay for my crime. Lock me up for life. You'd be doing me a favour, really.

-Kate Stewart is a politically incorrect columnist of no repute. Born and bred in Whanganui, she does not suffer fools gladly, but does suffer from the occasional bout of hayfever. Email at investik8@gmail.com