Marylyn Randall was a self-admitted techno-nerd. It was that simple. She had three desktop computers, two laptops, a tablet and two cellphones...and lived by herself in herself in what used to be her Great Aunt Margie's house near Port Jervis, NY. She bought the house from one of her cousins because she was desperate to get out of the New York Metropolitan area: there were just too many people. That house, and her Aunt Margie were her only fond memories from childhood.
During the summers while growing up, she would spend a couple of weeks with Aunt Margie to get away from the city. That had been her mom's idea, and it was brilliant. Aunt Margie understood Marylyn's need for time alone and didn't rag on her if she spent a whole day with her nose in a book, whether it was in the guest room, or sitting on the back porch in the shade. Every day, Marylyn would find freshly-baked cookies on the kitchen table. Aunt Margie always asked her intelligent questions about what she was reading, and at dinner, if they talked, great; if they didn't, she wasn't chided about it. She loved her Aunt Margie more than most people.
It was also at Aunt Margie's that she discovered she loved cats. At home, she had no pets. Aunt Margie had a big old black Maine Coon cat named "Bootsie." He had big old Bugs Bunny feet, and despite being all black with a tiny little soul-patch of white under his chin, his huge paws were unevenly white, to the point where he looked like he had walked through white paint; hence the name "Bootsie." Bootsie came by it honestly. He was aloof with most people, but adored Marylyn. Whenever Marylyn stayed with her aunt, Bootsie slept with her, and followed her everywhere. Sad as it is to say, she was more distraught by the eventual death of Bootsie than she was over the either the expected or untimely deaths of actual family members. That cat cared for her more than most of her relatives. The same week she bought the house and moved in, she adopted her cat "Joey," her first ever pet. He was a gangly calico Maine Coon kitten who grew into his oversized paws and ears. Now, he was huge.
She loved her house; the first thing she had done was electrical work, so that she would be able to accommodate all of her computers and electronics. That was what truly made Marylyn a techno-nerd: she was hopelessly outnumbered by her computer equipment and tech devices. The second thing she did was get internet that was meant not for casual home usage, but instead, meant for a business. She wanted speed, and as few interruptions as possible. When she had to pay to get the more robust line extended to her home, she didn't bat an eye. She wrote a check and smiled.
Her therapist from her teen years once told her she had 'anti-social personality disorder.' She could believe that. Marylyn spent most of her life not understanding people, much less liking them. It clinched it when he asked her how she was at making friends. Apparently, "I don't like most people enough to want to be friends or spend time with them" wasn't the right answer. When her therapist asked her how her dating life was, she laughed at him. "I don't date, and I'm still a virgin. Let's just say I haven't found the right guy yet and leave it there." Her therapist did a lot of note writing that day.
On any given day, she'd rather spend time with her cat Joey over any average person and would stick pins in her own eyes before working in a crowded office full of people...ugh...or spend 'quality' time at some place like Department of Motor Vehicles. Family gatherings weren't exempt, either. Her closest family understood she needed lots of alone time, and recognized the signs of annoyance and frustration when she was nearing her limit on social interaction. Her more distant family didn't, and thought she was weird. She knew from talking to her sister Angela that some of those distant family members thought she was retarded. Her sister was the one that truly understood her best; last year she bought her a T-shirt for Christmas. It was a black cat, and it said "Ewww...people" on it. It summed up her life rather succinctly. Marylyn concluded in high school during a computer class that she did much better with computers than people. She took a basic computer programming class...and found out she was excellent at it. Working at home as a programmer suited her just fine. The only co-worker she ever wanted to deal with going forward was her cat. She preferred cleaning his litter box to co-worker drama.
She'd been here in what was her aunt's old home for three years, and it was the best she'd ever felt. Marylyn was by herself except for Joey and had no forced interactions. She purchased one of those "meal" plans from website where they send you all the ingredients and basically do all your shopping for you. She liked cooking; she liked eating...and she despised grocery shopping with an equal passion. Some days, she felt like she had "talk to me" tattooed across her forehead, which isn't optimal when you'd rather not have to talk to random strangers. Before she signed up for the grocery delivery service, Marylyn would let her cupboards go bare and order takeout before she would go to the store. Ugh! Amazon was her friend. There was nothing Marylyn needed that couldn't be purchased on-line and delivered straight to her door. The more interactions she could cut out...the better.
The power outage that happened eight months ago was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. At first, it was only a curse, and miserable at that. A techno-nerd without internet, phones, power...or even air conditioning was a horror show beyond measure. Marylyn loved reading, but all her books were on Kindle. She'd had to limit her time on her phone and tablet even without a signal, because she needed to save her batteries. Because she lived in a semi-rural area, one of her first purchases was a battery backup for her main work computer. After realizing that this wasn't going to be a brief power outage, she ceased using her computer at all. Marylyn hadn't thought she would need a full-house generator. Apparently, she was mistaken.