After 6,053 posts over the past six years and that’s not even counting the entries at my other three blogs or at Pajamas Media I’ve reached a point where I no longer feel the least bit interested in spending my days online.
I know the feeling. Almost. (Though I’m still around for some reason.)
In the past two months, as I’ve spent increasingly less time online, I’ve discovered something profound: it’s not that I was dissatisfied with the life I was living, it’s that I was living too much of that life online.
Staying away from the computer on a regular basis has given me the time and mental energy to appreciate my loved ones, to accomplish projects I previously believed I didn’t have time for, and to simply take pleasure in being without feeling the compulsion to share every detail of my existence with the online community. (It’s also helped me shed 17 of the far-too-many-to-admit-in-public pounds that I’ve put on in the past 6 years as my life dwindled to the space between my bed, fridge and laptop.)
That’s the problem with life online: it makes phrases like “increasingly less” seem to make sense.
But that’s just me having a hissy fit because I know I’m going to miss her. (“Gee whiz, Kate, six years? They kept Guiding Light on for seventy-two!“)