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When I joined PC Pro nine years ago, one question used to perennially appear. "You work in computers?" Their eyes would light up in glee. "How handy. You see, my PC keeps crashing. Any ideas?"

I did have some ideas, mostly involving a quick jump through the nearest window, but generally I'd give in to my better instincts and offer a sympathetic ear. There would follow a ten-minute, rather vague discussion about the problem, after which I'd give some equally unspecific advice, which left no-one in the exchange entirely happy.

I soon learned the wisdom of nodding sagely, making a tooth-sucking noise to show what a very serious problem this was, and saying: "That's a tricky one," before suggesting they contact David Moss via our monthly Technical Support column. Then escaping through the nearest window.

It's testament to the stability of Windows XP and Vista that I'm rarely asked those questions any more. The majority of advice we give in our expert tips for Windows feature is about using the OS ina more intelligent way, rather than rescuing it from fatal blue-screen situations. No: I'm now feeling depressed due to an entirely different question.

Often it's in email form. "Hi!" it will start brightly. "It's been ages, hasn't it? How are you and the kids? [Clearly they've forgotten said kids' names.] The reason I'm in touch, although it would be absolutely fabulous to meet up again, is I'm in the market fora new laptop. And I know you're the expert in this area, so I thought I'd drop you a line." Or, as happened this very week, I was walking down the stairs with someone who

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works for the Government, swapping amusing tales of lost discs, when he asked if I could recommend a laptop for his wife.

Everyone and their dog seems to be after the same thing - it should only cost around £400, it's only needed for web browsing and word processing - butI can't remember the last time a friend even mentioned they were buying a desktop PC. This month, however, I received a not-terribly-profound Eureka moment, sat at my desk late one evening, takeaway pizza going gradually cold by my side.

I'd already spent a quite unseemly amount of time poring through the Luxury £599 PCs Labs, when I was struck by how casually we were mentioning things that were still far beyond the reach of all but the most lavish laptops. It isn't the stunning processing speed or the 2GB of RAM that have become the de facto standard on PCs; as we've seen with the new Intel Penryn-based systems, laptops aren't far behind. It isn't even the lavish 22in screens. No, what struck me was the amount of storage space.

To quote the review of the Eclipse Vogue: "What you'll find is a decent 320GB hard disk and a DVD writer that burns discs at 20x." Decent? 320GB, my friend, is huge. I use a laptop at work and at home, and I'm constantly checking up on my spare disk space. Frankly, I'd kill for a 320GB disk inside my laptop, as the space consumed by the short videosI take on my camera, coupled with an ever-increasing music collection, gnaw away at the 10GB of spaceI have spare.

I should, of course, buy an external hard disk, and once I emerge reborn from my post-Christmas debt that's what I intend to do. When you can buy a terabyte of space for £123, as you can with the Iomega Desktop Hard Drive, thereby postponing the purchase of a new laptop by a good year, the money is well spent.

But it makes me wonder whether people realise the consequences of their buying decisions. It would be fascinating to do a time-and-motion study of laptop users and find out how frequently they took them away from their desks. We often talk about people using their laptop on the sofa, but I'd be willing to bet - say, the sum of £123 - that most just use it at a single location 90% of the time.