At Your Fingertips

I just got done unloading and loading the dishwasher, then doing the same thing with the washing machine, then wiping down the sink and the countertops and bringing in Vince, who had been sitting placidly on the porch for quite a while but suddenly tore off into the bushes, barking and growling and all agitated about something. He came back in as Captain Muddypaws, of course, and had to sit still while I cleaned him off, and then I threw away the paper towel and gave the kitchen one last glance and headed in here to write this.

And the whole time, I was thinking about getting online. It occurred to me shortly after I started the dishes that there was something good I could be looking up on the web – the original animated clip of Where The Wild Things Are, from the 60s or 70s I think, mentioned in some article I read yesterday (online, naturally) and now suddenly urgently interesting.

I also wanted to take a dish/laundry break to grab my computer or phone and browse the pictures Penny's sister took at her concert last night. I know she got them off her camera this afternoon, and surely has posted them to her Facebook account by now.

But I kept on cleaning. At first it seemed like way too long to wait, you know, and I figured maybe I'd take a break after the dishes but before the laundry, and look up all that stuff I was so instantaneously curious about. In the end, though, I was able to hold off until the whole job was done.

And that, as I thought it might, made the Wild Things clip and the concert pictures much more exciting in my mind. Five or ten minutes' delay – just long enough to start a new load of laundry – got me giddy (okay, maybe not *giddy*) with anticipation.

And I got to thinking about how it came to be this way. The giddiness, mild as it may be, is clearly a result of my having more or less nonstop access to the Internet. Mostly I'm home, and other than that I have my iPhone, unless I'm in a pool or something, which only applies about .5 hours a week. So anytime I want to know something that can be known by consulting The Ether, I pretty much do.

After all, it's free, right? Well, "unlimited," I should say. I pay the same amount for access whether I get online or not. So there's really no reason – no financial reason, anyway – not to indulge my curiosity the moment it surfaces. And, as Lope would be the first to tell you, that's just what I do.

For a moment, though, as I sorted whites from darks and emptied lint and blotted paws, I resisted. This time.

And now that I'm done with the tasks, and tapping away online, have I looked up the video clip, or the concert pictures? Nope. Instead I went right here and wrote this. Because that other stuff will be there when I get finished.

I had a feeling I'd knock this little observation right out of my head as soon as I jammed something else in. Which I'm trying not to do so compulsively.

Sort of.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I do the same thing....thinking about the book I am reading tho....age I guess!