My Name Is Classic, And I Gotta Problem…

As Adrian Monk would say: here’s the thing. At least for the past five days. My second cousin, a woman of 34 by the name of Violet Herring flew into DFW airport from California less than a week ago, and into our lives indefinitely. Do not inquire of exactly how the decision was considered and made in less than 48 hours, for I can assure you my reply with be anything but grammatically and logically coherent.

Oh, bother, it feels like forever and a day since my last blog posting.

I’ve decided that every other week I am having Heather Madame steal my laptop, so that I will not be tempted to spend perfectly good hours of my time sitting in front of a computer screen when far more productive tasks can be accomplished. The first two days were notably difficult and, as with any bad habit, the third day was the worst. My mind kept jumping into the same endgame for a task:

Notes:

“Oh! I know! I’ll take notes on my laptop!

Reading:

“Oh! I know! I’ll go to Google Books on my laptop!”

Communication:

“Oh! I know! I’ll just send them an e-mail…on my laptop!

I dreaded the day when I would find myself feeling dependant on tech, my thoughts turning to it to complete a task I can easily accomplish with a pen and paper, the library, or my very own vocal chords. The dark night when I would look in some nearby reflective surface and see a *cue horror music* ordinary, tech-obsessed teenager! And yet, there I sat at my desk, staring with a mild feeling of disorientation and helplessness at the absence of the electronic matter known as the netbook laptop computer. But, indeed, I am taking decent measures to remedy my addiction.

Unfortunately, ’tis nearing 11:00, and I find I’m rather tired. And so, until next time,

–Classic/Hannah-Elizabeth

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