Some of my keys stick or are just plain sticky. Dust, grime, gunk, and funk are all around me. I look gross and disgusting from careless and improper use and incompetent users. One time I was nearly shorted out from Big Coffee spilling all over me. Crusty, junky crumbs are all up in my grill. I’ve been slammed, yanked, and beat down by noisy typists (oh you know them, alright, you can hear them type from 20 yards away). I’ve been screamed at and forced to type in languages I don’t even know.
One thing I know, and this I know without a doubt. It’s that I have no control over my connection and no control over which keys are pressed in whatever order. There is some order to it, too. I’ve noticed a recurring theme, as well. As long as I’m connected, I keep getting used. My typist keeps cleaning me up and air dusting me, which doesn’t always feel good but always makes me work my best. But my best is only in connection to the power source and the meticulous typing of my typist, who knows exactly what to type, when and how long.
I’m just a keyboard, but my typist is brilliant!