As I sit in front of my Mac with Firefox running, three tabs going, while texting a friend back in Michigan and chatting with my son on the old-fashion telephone, it occurs to me I may be overstimulated tonight.
My eyes wander to my lava lamp, and I slip into a trance as drool drips down my chin.
Kidding about the drool.
Back to Firefox ... I've got Yahoo mail open, my Match.com page and this new Blogger thingy, all of which I'm clicking back and forth among, checking messages, looking for e-mails. Oh, yes, and I just closed a tab where I was searching for condos through my Realtor's database.
As much as I don't want to admit it, I am back on Match.com, but I think I've figured out why. Because it's there. I've been off and on the site since November-ish. Each time I depart, I swear not to return. Yet, there I go, back again. Same old faces. Some kid (30-something) named Andrew seems to always be connected to Match. He IMs me every time I return and welcomes me back. I slouch in my chair and feel like a loser. Then I do some searches, see interesting faces and remind myself that this is the 2000s, and this is how people meet.