Wish I could explain….

…. things a little better.

I seem to have no middle ground.  I’m here or I’m not.

I was totally -well except an hour or so at the library – off line from the end of December till whenever I got the computer – just last Sunday for heaven’s sake.  I was partially off line for months before because my computer had a series of what ended up fatal diseases.

During the time I was off line totally, I read and wrote and kept more of my house clean.  I put away things.  I cooked and washed dishes.  I organized.  I went to the library and I wrote letters.  I did none of these things to any great degree but I did them to some degree.  Now a week back on line I find it very easy to spend hour after hour after hour dinking around on line.  I can let the stuff on the table pile up around my elbows.  I can put off taking a bath.  I can ignore everything but the daily paper’s Sudoku, which comes soon after lunch time on weekdays, and to which I seem to be totally devoted.

After a bunch of thought I’ve decided the appeal of the computer is its immediacy.  It’s right-now-ness.  I look at the screen.  I push a key.  Something happens.  It might be something that pleases me.  It might be something that displeases me.  Often it’s something between pain and pleasure.  Yet still, something happens.   It’s like a shot at the lottery.  I might be very happy.  Mostly I’m bored and have less money/time than I had before.  But still…. again there is the chance that something good and unexpected and satisfying is right there at my fingertips.

I’m not terribly happy with myself for being this way.  I’m not happy that I have to pry myself away from here to do something.  And that I’m waiting for my next session with the great wizard behind the curtain.  I put away the groceries – sort of.  And then here I am again.

There is some exaggeration in what I’ve written here.  But there is some truth in it too.

I want to write something for my writers’ group.  Was thinking of a work memoir from my Sears Credit days.  I managed to remember about thirty names – which I will not use  – from the early 1970s.  People rarely write about working.  It’s a shame because it’s an interesting subject and so much life gets lost when we don’t write it down.

Writing group meets at 11 am on first Sunday of the month which in April is Easter.  Not sure anyone’s figured that out yet.

Pic is off a wood cut by Carl Homstad.  It’s called Pasture Oak.