When I was probably too young to use computers, my dad showed me how to use our Windows 95 PC. He opened up Paint, let me doodle for a while, and showed me how to save. He closed the window, pointed to the icon we created on the desktop and said "Click on that twice and you can look at it whenever you want."
I double-clicked, but my masterpiece didn't appear. Nothing but a tiny monochrome hourglass. I was confused, a little frustrated. I said "Where is it?" and my dad pointed at the humming computer tower and said "It's thinking." Not a second later there was my art once again.
I can not overstate the impact of the idea that the computer is often just "thinking" and needs a second. This single-handedly made me so much more patient with technology in general.
I remember having a friend over and showing her Barbie Fashion Designer and whenever there was a loading screen she would furiously mash the left and right mouse buttons until the next thing happened. And this was the first time I experienced empathy for the machine. Like, I knew logically that computers were objects and not people, but seeing the impatient clicking still felt like I was watching someone getting hurt - being abused simply for needing more time to think than a person might.
"What is wrong with you?" is what I wanted to say. But I also figured she was never taught it that way. In a sense, my dad was also teaching me to be patient with people when they don't understand something. So I just said "We don't need to do that, it's just thinking."
She continued to mash the clicker on every loading screen.
As an adult when things go awry on the computer I find myself handling things a bit more thoughtfully, entering problem-solving mode and even asking my PC gentle questions aloud. Going into task manager to see if maybe it just has a lot on its plate, or if some app is bothering it, or if maybe I've given it a big ask just now. I give it room to breathe, I clean it, I shut it down so it can rest.
I think it's good to personify your belongings a little bit. Love your tools and they'll love you back, so they say. I've burrowed myself into a social life, line of work, and set of hobbies which are so very dependent on the machine - yet it too depends on me. So I show it some respect. After all, it's only thinking.