(read: I) were to manage that scrolling and clicking and stayed OUT of those time consuming rabbit holes, yes, this means BuzzFeed videos (seriously, is BF not killing it with those videos lately?) then we'd have something to show for our hours in front of the glow of the screen.
We all know about the time we spend online, just like we know but don't understand that weird time/space slinky action thing that warps the minutes we're on the internet into hours. Now you see it, and zaaaaaaaaaaaap snap, now you don't.
Where DID those two hours go? Last thing I know I was searching for *Lunch Boxes+Sturdy* and then I'm looking at a video of Taylor Swift sliding down a snow covered college campus hill on a lunch tray.
This can't go on, I'll tell you, there are things I need to get back to doing that I did before I moved online.
Important things, like this list right here of how I'd be spending my time if it weren't for the seduction of the internet:
--Staring at my fingernails, willing my lazy butt to get out of the house and get a manicure.
--Poking around the snack cabinet deciding on what to have for second breakfast.
--Walking around the house with two pairs of socks on to stretch out my new winter boots.
--Letting my Bethenny Now! exercise DVD play in the background while I finish up the sweet-n-salty chips the kids left out last night.
--Going to the basement with intention to cull toys, DVDs, books. Walking back upstairs after surveying area for three minutes with my hands on my hips.
--Be at the local yoga class where the teacher there waits until I'm *this close* to falling asleep to sneak up on me and make me jump ten feet in the air by whispering "namaste" into my ear.
--Or I could be at Zumba, where the instructor there tries for the 7th time to talk me into leading her Zumba Silver class.
--Pull the blankets off the beds to let the sheets "breathe" as Martha Stewart Living advises. Consider that my housekeeping for the day.
--Decide to have lunch with my youngest at school. Surprise him with McDonald's only to have him grab the bag out of my hand and say, "Thanks mom you can go home now. No. Really. You can go home now."
--Notice that my jeans have permanent knee mounds, take myself to Old Navy for new pair, where all are too long and too tight. Refuse to try the larger size up. Drive to Hefner's Cup O'Custard, stay in their parking lot and lick my wounds, metaphorically through Death by Chocolate triple scoop in cup. Consider Death by Chocolate a literal invitation.
--Drive to an afternoon matinee. Suffer through Playing for Keeps about hyper-sexed soccer moms wanting to do aging soccer star Gerard Butler at every which way while he coaches their little ones on for a team win! Play a game with myself and try and guess which mom is the one who gets behind the scenes special skills "reffing" session.
--Rummage through my husband's sock and underwear drawer. Hoping to find something linking him to exciting past Bourne Identity double-agent life. Find only saved tags from the past ten years of boxers in case new ones don't fit.
I've got so much to get back to from the old life. If you want to get back in control of the life you had pre-internet, then it's time to download some of that software that locks you out of Facebook and gives you only 5 minutes of twitter. Or.... you can stay online with me, and send me your answer to "What Kind of Egyptian Queen Would You Be?"
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