Really running out of things to write about

Sometimes, when I've run out of other things to be paranoid about, I think about how much time I spend with a computer each day and freak out just a tiny bit. My computer at work, my computer at home, the laptop I keep under my pillow for those miserable nights when I can't sleep and it's totally because I'm worried about Britney and I have to go online and find out if she's publicly humiliated herself yet again... I spend eight hours a day zoned out in front of a computer monitor redesigning database tables, beating the forms into shape, and checking my email every five minutes. And what's the first thing I do when I finally get home and unlock my front door? Check my email. Even before I go to the bathroom. Because, you know, what if I have NEW MAIL?!?!?!

Phillip likes to act all superior and make snotty comments about my minor obsession, but this is the man who also spends eight hours a day with tables and forms, then comes home and heads straight for his computer. Not to check his email, mind you, but to do more work! Work! And whatever, Mr. I-Know-What-SQL-Stands-For, installing your new hard drive totally counts as work and you crossed the border to Pocket Protectorville long long ago.

No, if the computer were only good for work, I would be worshiping another electronic device altogher: TV and his partner-in-wasting-all-my-time, Precious TiVo. But the computer... oh, have I mentioned email? I mean, you can hammer out a little message! And send it instantly! Like! That! And you don't have to talk to anyone. I love you, Email Inventer, just for making it a little easier for all of us desperately-shy misanthropically-inclined humans to stay holed up in our respective cozy apartments because, oh, do I abhor the Phone. About four weeks ago I left my cell phone in an Ann Taylor dressing room (I think!) and do I miss it? No! Well, maybe a little when I think a big bus is going to ram into me on the way home. But unless you are my parents or the girl who lives all the freak out in Hawaii or the other girls who live 5 minutes away but have, like, Major Boy and/or Roommate Issues to discuss with your Older and Incredibly Wiser sister, chances are I am not picking up the phone. Unless you are the lottery people. Or you made me fudge and want to drop it by. Or a friend inviting me over to drink Copious Amounts Of Wine. Or you are the UPS man calling to tell me that there are, for some BIZARRE reason, a million J. Crew boxes addressed to ME filling up his warehouse and will I be home tomorrow when he delivers them? Because I would totally love to get a phone call like that.

Ah, but I digress! The time I spend with computers! It is frightening!

Which is why, tonight, while Phillip is perpetuating Geekdom by attending a Visual Basic.net class, I plan to read a Book. It is called How To Start A Career In Freelancing and it will, no doubt, tell me to spend even more time in front of the computer. Half of which I will waste by checking my email every five minutes. Make me happy!