By Gil Gonzalez
Random Writers: Write about activities that make you lose track of time.
Consider this a formal complaint regarding your incessant desire to consume my time. This has been going on far too long, and it’s time we address the issue.
I understand you provide me with productive and educational resources. Yes, it’s true. I haven’t written a check – let alone mailed one – to pay a bill in over five years. I concede you have allowed me, at a moment’s notice, to research information to assist my children with their homework or school projects.
Still, your pros pale in comparison to the cons with which you continue to fill my life.
Let’s be honest. Is there anything you can say in your defense that remotely makes up for the time hog that is Facebook? I thought things were bad when you cast upon me that other site way back when. You know, the one with the glitter posts and pictures of pre-teens making duck faces. But that was relatively confined. Now it seems you’ve pushed this child of yours onto the masses, and it’s just killing my ability to be productive as a result.
You make me feel popular. You make me want to keep up with all those people I’ve met once or twice who are now my friends. Yes, if not for you and your Facebook I wouldn’t be able to remember their names, but they’re my friends now dadgummit, and I absolutely need to go through the 1400 pictures you coaxed them into uploading to you.
Are you simply a masochist at heart, reveling in the notion that your presence makes us all suffer as we fall into the black-hole of time suckage that you created?
It would almost be acceptable if it were just Facebook. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? You had to throw things like Twitter and YouTube into the mix. You had to razzle-dazzle my attention with Reddit, Tumblr, and StumbleUpon. Worse of all, you employed my own kind – my friends – to do your dirty work for you. You had them bombard me with their blogs and personal sites. You continue to build your empire upon itself, each new URL a strand in the web you weave around the little spare time I have.
And don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing with that Pinterest thing. You present it as an escape from the mundane, only to drain the minutes and hours out of my life and into your vastness.
Seriously, this has to stop. You have to allow me to do my laundry, clean my floors, and feed my kids. This is insane what you do to me.
But the more I try to pull away from you, the more I feel myself needing to come back.
You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all those things I said. I know you’re just trying to be there for me when I need you. It’s not you. It’s me. Please don’t hold this against me.
More importantly, please don’t take away my LOL cats.