An Unintentional Sabbatical

Last week, as I lay felled by illness, my laptop began ghost typing. Unfortunately, there were no cryptic messages from the beyond, just endless and irritating backslashes that prevented the input of correct passwords and thus entry to rather important websites (gotta pay the bills!).

So this past week or so, as I've recovered from being a mess of tissues and cough drop wrappers, I've also been without my laptop. It is in the capable hands of the trained exorcists of the Apple Store.

Now, I can't take credit for making time, but there suddenly seems to be a lot of it. Without the lure of the Internet, I've gotten the rest I've needed, enjoyed many good books, done some work on my second novel (by hand and with an old desktop), exercised, and even worked on this blog (a good writing exercise).

Last year, the lack of a laptop would've been devastating. I remember when my first one died with no warning right in the middle of midterms. Panic attacks ensued, especially as it became clear that the papers I had been in the middle of writing, the sources I had carefully saved, were no longer at my fingertips.

Now, however, there are no papers to write or exams to study for. Any necessary or basic computer use can be done either by my phone or on my work computer during my lunch break (like now, for instance). And I feel...calm. At peace. I feel like I have focus back. Now that my speech is no longer hindered by an incredibly sore throat, I've had some good conversations in person and by phone. I've watched entire movies without multitasking. I'm not delaying exercise or errands or sleep with mindless surfing.

So while I look forward to the return of my laptop, I also dread it. I dread returning to bad habits, not even entertaining myself with yet another stupid website when I could actually enjoy a good book. I have to learn to say no. I hope and pray that this uninentional sabbatical from purposeless Internet use will give me the incentive that I need to say no.

It is a siren song, and I never seem to have beeswax on hand.