Junkie

This is a sad state of affairs tonight, y'all.  I've come to grips with the fact that I'm an addict.  I'm a complete computer junkie.

Now, I'm not overly blog-happy, for sure.  That comment last week about "vomiting" my thoughts was hyperbole.  Believe it or not, I actually do have a filter.  And it's on most of the time.  So I don't simultaneously post status updates on The Facebook, Tweet, update the Tumblr (I don't even have an account.  Should I sign up?  Please advise.), and write a post in one night.  However, when it comes out, it really feels like my heart and brain upchuck my feelings and thoughts.

So imagine my frustration, nay horror, when I decided, in a momentary lapse of reason, that I would take a hiatus from the computer.  I headed down to mom and dad's for the weekend to celebrate my sweet niece's birthday and left the computer behind.  ON PURPOSE.  Yet, here I am.

Here's the fault in my plan: I left the phone charger at home.  Ridiculous, right?  I know.  So insane.  I can picture it lying peacefully amongst the toast crumbs on my counter.  So if I am to communicate with anybody, I need a computer.  Additionally, I traditionally concieve of brilliant ideas when I'm without a pen and paper (computer).  So there you have it.

And finally, in my defense, I'm at my parents house and there's a huge boxing match on tonight.  One of the boxers works out at the gym where I was recently hired (more on this.  It's AWESOME!), so I've found myself sucked it.  I want him to win because the other guy just sucks.  His character, I mean.  He's a great boxer, but he sucks at being a human being.  My guy is awesome.  Cinderella story and everything like that.  So I've got myself tapped into a live blog covering the match because my 'rents aren't going to toss out $60 for my viewing pleasure.  They love me and thrill at my enthusiasm, but not that much.

So the moral of the story is that I couldn't handle 48 hours with a computer.  I'm on the teeniest tiniest wee-est little loaner computer that my dad lent me out of pity.  Perhaps it was the tears.  Maybe the whining.  But I'm here and I'm happy.  However, I'm aware that I AM the problem with my age group.  Looking down instead of looking in the eye and everything else I bitch about regularly.  I'm going to be a great cranky old person.

That's all.  I threw out the filter earlier today.  Have a nice night.  Go Victor!