In Which I Draw the Line.

Dear Internet,

I confess I've missed our time together. When I was entertaining guests, when I was visiting family, I felt bad about giving you my full attention for any significant length of time. But all along you were busy storing up things you wanted to tell me about. My RSS feed was bursting at the seams when I opened it last night, and my e-mail inbox is littered with unanswered messages. I spent a lot of time today sorting through the treasures you saved to show me. They were wonderful, so wonderful that I've already forgotten what most of them were.

Let's see. You told me what my friends and other interesting people had been up to, their holiday highlights and their resolutions. That was nice to hear about. Then you brought me up to date on the weather and upcoming local events and some things you thought I might want to spend money on. Then you had some games for me to try out and some music for me to listen to, and I liked those things too.

But you are kind of a showoff, Internet, kind of an attention hog. I had plans to get a lot of paper-related chores done today, and I didn't get very far with most of them, because you had so much to say. I suspect you are kind of emotionally needy, Internet, because you will stop at nothing to hold my attention. I'm not saying you're boring, mind you, just that sometimes you need to let people have some space. I am going to go finish the laundry now, so you can just read yourself a story and tuck yourself in for the night, because we are not staying up talking until 2 a.m. Not tonight.

Compulsively yours,
Lindsey