December 01, 2001

cry for help

Back from vacation, I'm stumped. I thought I was over it. But the blog tugs at my pant leg. Comeon, baby, blog some more. say something else. let go. it feels so good. Meanwhile, where'd my husband go? Did my daughter just unbolt the front door and head out? Wait--just let me finish this one thought; I'll be right there... and I'll get right to those bills, those dishes, those phone calls, those assignments.... just one more thought... just one more...

Like a trip to Betty Ford, my week-long sans-Internet Florida vacation taught me something. I am one-hundred percent addicted to blogging. I got it bad. And I'm not so sure I want to stop. But I'm pretty sure I need to get a grip.

You see, I got the shakes about an hour out of town. Some little DSL demon on my shoulder, looking back through the rearview mirror, wondering when he'd get his next fix. Whispering in my ear, poking at me--"We should go back. You coulda grabbed the laptop. What the fuck--we're gonna miss a lot. They'll never remember you. You gotta find a connection down there. We can't go a whole week."

Six hours of driving with a four year old, and I'm through detox. Between the road, the games, the pit-stops, next thing you know, it's a brand new day. A week at the spa--ocean breezes, good chow, swiming pools, fresh seafood. THIS is living. No news. No blogs. Who cares? Don't need 'em. I'm a new man. (well, woman). I love my husband and sweet baby girl. I'm so glad to be hanging out here with them, pure family devotion. Nothing else. Walking the pier, fishing (did someone say fishrush? noooo man. I don't fishrush no more).

That online world, the one that got me so high, is far behind. And, like I thought I'd never be, I'm glad. So glad I kicked that habit. I've been such a shitty mom lately. Not much better of a wife. Tied to the laptop. What have I been thinking? I'm so glad I'm over it. When I get back, It's billable hours only, get that paycheck, and forget the rest. RGE's in good hands. Locke's got Gonzo under control. He doesn't need me, for sure. No one really needs me out there. Wshew! What a load off my shoulders.


Don't need it.

It's gone.

I'm free.

High-five to my higher power; I'm cured.

And now I'm back home.

In total relapse mode. On this laptop all weekend, I'm right back in it, man, and it tastes good, smells good, feels good, and my senses are so keen, and my brain is on fire, and I'm blogified like never before. Gimme more. I need more. Where is everyone? Shit, RageBoy hasn't had a post since Friday. Doc's on his strict blogging regimin (what is it, two hours a day?). Steve left off with that St. Andrew's day thing. And I already talked about Mike Sanders why we blog question over on RGE.

So where's the shit? I NEED some more SHIT! Where did my connections go?

please guys, just one more time.

i need it bad.

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