Whenever I'm at my laptop and Tariq heads to bed, he looks at me very seriously, "Now, promise me you'll go to bed soon."
It reminds me of the scene in Titanic where Leo says, "You're gonna go on, Rose, and you're going to die an old lady, happy and warm in her bed, but not like this... not this night, not here.. do you understand me?"
And, then, I go all Kate on him and am like, "It's not up to you to save me, Jack... leave me alone."
I know those lines aren't in the same scene, but they should be.
Unrelated: I didn't even have to Google those lines.
Have a good weekend.
Addicted (def.): Physically and mentally dependent on a particular substance, and unable to stop taking it without incurring adverse effects; enthusiastically devoted to a particular thing or activity.
I had a very, very hard time staying offline that first Monday. So hard of a time that I actually ended up logging on.
I had a good reason, though.
I had to reset my Islamic prayer clock because of the time change and the manual is online.
Yes, I got on the Internet for religious reasons.
Totally off the hook for that one. God said it was OK. Well, just to clarify, he didn’t speak directly to me. But, I'm assuming, based on previous information that my actions were divinely mandated.
The next Monday was equally hard. Because Britt talked up her plans for her Monday post on Sunday, and, anyone who has ever heard Britt promote anything knows that resistance is futile.
So, I just logged on to read her post. But, I can't read Britt without reading Adam, because it's a rule. I swear, though, I was on for maybe 20 minutes.
I'm oh-for-two here, aren't I?
The question arises, if you're addicted to something and it’s not hurting you or anyone else, then whocares?
It’s not like my child is starving to death and my kitchen counters have fungus growing on them due to the neglect that arises out of my being on the Internet.
Maybe it’s an issue of control.
The need to flip open the laptop at random times during the day without really thinking about it feels unconscious. I just don’t like being unconscious. Unless there are stellar prescription drugs involved, in which case I'm open to it.
I like to know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. And, sometimes, I’ll be online for an hour and not even realize it. I don’t like that feeling. I don’t like how a plan to be online for fifteen minutes turns into an hour and half, sometimes. I feel like it robs the presence out of my life.
Living conscious is not pretty. Every thirty minutes or so on No Internet Monday, I feel twitchy.
Twitch, twitch. I really want to check my e-mail.
Twitch, twitch. I need the number for my doctor. Do we even have a phone book?
Twitch, twitch. I wonder what my awesome bloggy friends wrote about today.
Twitch, twitch. I need to e-mail so and so about plans this week.
Twitch, twitch. Is Photoshop really $700?
Twitch, twitch. Can you really order prescription drugs legally from Canada?
Twitch, twitch. Hmmm, I really want to log in to Facebook.
Twitch, twitch. Damn, Barry, when are you going to get those girls a puppy?!
Twitch, twitch. I’d really love to read some Twitter updates.
Twitch, twitch. I’m starting to feel a little homicidal.
P.S. Tomorrow is the last No Internet Monday. I'll be switching over to Sundays from now on.
P.P.S Dear Britt, please don't post anything good on Sunday. Ever. Again.