It’s not even a little bit newsworthy or original for me to talk about what time-suckers Facebook and Twitter are. And, while no one ever mentions it, the same can be said for Google Reader, especially if you subscribe to, say, 227 items, and there are in the neighborhood of 400 things to read each day.
Seriously, Google Reader is out of control. I keep deleting things, and then I’ll add a whole bunch in an afternoon, thus negating any sense of control I might have over this. And half of it is news items, so it’s not like it’s all crap (not that anyone’s blog I read is crap). This doesn’t even cover the other Google Reader account I have for pop culture items. So that’s a whole other hundred items a day from E! and Us Weekly and People and the like.
Other things that are weighing me down: podcast subscriptions on iTunes and my Hulu queue. I feel like I spend a lot less time actually watching real TV when it’s on – even if it’s the same number of television shows. But they just build and build during the week, and then I’m all kinds of behind on The Daily Show and other things I generally delight in.
Oh, another. Google Calendar? You’re on notice for the tasks list. Because I actually put in all the information from my various syllabi for the semester, plus outside things that need to get done. This doesn’t even count things like workshop pieces that I don’t have a schedule for yet. It was probably a really bad idea to put these things in, but this semester is so ungodly overwhelming that it’ll be tremendously easy for it to all fall apart if I don’t keep a vigilant watch. (Dear friends, please keep a vigilant watch of the river. Love, Amy)
But I’m not complaining – I swear I’m not. All of this leads me to a problem with the Internet I didn’t even realize until yesterday. Yesterday, I was supposed to spend my day at home tip-tapping away toward an article I have due for a local magazine. An article I’m really excited about writing because a) I’m kind of really digging seeing my name on glossy, colorful paper and b) it’s a topic I’ve been advocating for in my daily life for the past decade.
And then, Twitter.
But not like you’d expect.
On Twitter, I follow many real writers because I like looking inside people’s brains, no matter how false a sense this is because it’s the Internet. I have even more writers as friends on Facebook. And they all complain about writing. Some of them complain all day long. By the time lunch rolled around yesterday, I had completely talked myself out of writing because none of the famous writers seemed to want to do it.
Seriously, self?
That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done as a result of the Internet, I think. The whole point of following writers is to be inspired by them. To remember what I want out of life. And that it’s maybe, some day far, far away, obtainable at some fractional level of that. Which will never happen if I let my inspiration get me down. I mean, I know it’s a job. And that writing is hard. And that people bitch about their jobs on social networking sites all the time. I’m sure a third of the status updates I read are about how people don’t want to be at work. But this is the good work! And I don’t get paid for it. And if I ever want to get paid for it, I need to be hard-assed about doing the free stuff.
So I put you on double-notice, famous writers. Or I’ll unfriend and unfollow every last one of you.
(Lies. I’m way too creepy to stop stalking people online.)
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