That Little Voice

Oh, my gosh, the longer I’m in self-isolation the more addictions I discover I harbor.

My internet went out this week and it was not a pretty picture around my casa.

For three days I gnawed on my fingernails, stomped my feet, checked my modem a thousand times, paced my hallway, chewed another finger-nail, watered the plants even though it was raining, boiled a couple of eggs and forgot them until they exploded spewing egg parts from ceiling to cabinets to floor.

As I said, not a pretty picture.

When I lose my internet connection, that means no emails, no messages, no television, no Alexa, no green lights blinking merrily on the gizmo that lets me know I’m wired to the world.

When one is living alone, and the world is in lockdown, one needs distractions other than a couple of doglets who both want to be lap dogs at the same time.

it was during these days of deprivation that I discovered, not for the first time, I find comfort in receiving messages from friends via email and sometimes even Facebook. And I really want to know the running tally of people infected with the coronavirus. I need all that bad news as a reminder why I’m washing my hands every 30 minutes as I clean egg off the counter tops.

I did not know the extent of my need to hear the ping of an email arriving. I underestimated my longing for a commercial break. How was I to know my happiness is dependent on my computer?

There are a couple of good things in this extra sensory void. I have now looked at all 5,948 pictures in my photo library and have done some editing on most of them. I have discovered dust mounds on top of cabinets while hunting for wayward yolks. And, I learned I need a 12-step program for detoxing from internet consumption.

Oh, the perils of social distancing.

I do hope you are handling this ‘learning about yourself’ better than I am.

Stay Safe and Stay Sane.