It's not exactly that I'm not ONLINE anymore, because I'm online all the time. At least it feels that way. I spend plenty of time answering emails, and texts and messages and scrolling through Instagram (which definitely takes longer than just a few minutes). I stop by Facebook, though I don't post there all that much either. I read the news...or at least skim the headlines, since actually reading the news often makes me so sad and upset and aggravated that it's more an exercise in despair and restraint than is healthy.
I watch shows online, and movies...flipping around between Netflix and AppleTV and HBO Nordic and SVTPlay and SF Anytime, and YouTube...but it's not actually the bulk of my time. My online time seems to be mostly frittering. It's the Twitter syndrome of small soundbites instead of substantial content. It leaves me feeling sort of flat. It doesn't fill me up.
I suppose, that if I want to make a satisfying meal of the content I consume online, then I have to help contribute to the feast. Being online is like a potluck, in that sense. If everyone brings finger food and appetizers, you get full, maybe, but you're sort of left feeling as if you didn't really get a good meal out of it. There's no UMAMI about people online anymore. And there's no real sense of closure either. People have just sort of faded away. It's a bummer that you don't get to hear about the latest chapters of lives that you were once rather immersed in, to one degree or another, and for good or, sometimes, ill. There's no happy ending. Or sad ending, or ANY ending, really. You know they're out there, somewhere, but you no longer know what they are doing, or feeling, or thinking, or laughing about.
Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we were TOO invested in other people's lives, and neglecting our own. But it doesn't feel like that. It feels more like a sort of accidental abandonment by friends, of friends. It's not that I don't care enough to write as much as I used to, certainly.
Blah blah blah.
When you sit down to write something, it helps to have something in mind to write about. I haven't felt like that in a long time. That I've had anything particular to write about. But it's not like the things that I have written about before were anything earth-shattering. I just did it. I just wrote about them. What I was doing, or feeling, or thinking, or laughing about. It makes me feel good to write something, anyway. It makes me feel better when, at the end of the year, I have a record of my life and thoughts that I can print for posterity (or for my kids, whichever comes first). It probably doesn't help that so much of my brain space these days is eaten up with the crazy at work. Still, there are plenty of other things to write about, and think about, and laugh about. Right?
Today was a particularly crazy, stressful day at work, with several meetings, too much to do (as usual) and trying to get plane tickets booked for a trip to Italy for work next week with my boss. I was very pleased that she asked me to accompany her. It's to hold a branding training for the S. Europe regional marketing staff. I have been to the Axis office in Milan once before, years ago, but they have since expanded and moved, so it will all be new to me. And it's the first work trip I've had in ages...years, actually, so that's nice, too.
The massage appointment I also had scheduled today was canceled last minute due to illness, which I was particularly bummed about, since it's been 3 weeks and I was desperately in need of one to help stave off shoulder issues...but then Karin agreed to give me a half-hour this evening (for pay, but still) and she ALSO cooked dinner from scratch, unasked. It was delicious: red pesto pasta with zucchini and smoked salmon. You should be envious. And the tomatoes in the garden are STILL ripening. I brought in another handful tonight. It's been about a handful a day since late July. Yum yum. AND we're going to try to dry the giant sunflower serendipitously sprouted in the front yard over the summer. It's HUGE—seriously. The size of a very fat dinner plate. The head has bowed and the petals are starting to fall. As soon as it starts to turn yellow/brown, we'll chop it off and bring it in to dry (assuming the birds don't beat us to it). I expect there are close to a thousands sunflower seeds in that thing.
What else haven't I written about? Karin's struggles with the driving test. Karin's job at my company getting extended. Martin's year and then some at college. What we're doing for Christmas. Anders' kayak (it's finished! It's beautiful! It floats!). So many things that get missed when I don't sit down and just write. Just do it.