I Am an Addict

Ok, I admit it. I am an addict. I am powerless and my life is unmanageable.

Let me tell you about it:

We had a power outage recently. I’ve never seen winds like the ones that blew through our neighborhood and uprooted trees, moved them across the roads, and planted them into the ground in new yards. Over half a million people in Minnesota were left powerless.

I  grew angry, anxious, and depressed. I came off as sullen, impatient and  irritable. I went silent, tossed and turned in bed, and woke up in the middle of the night sweating.

I had excessive energy: I worked out hard, doubled my walks, ate half the calories.

I was in withdrawal.

Finally, after 73 hours the lights came on.

At last I could feed my addiction.

I got on the Internet!

I felt better quickly.

How awful was not being connected?

We met neighbors we hadn’t introduced ourselves to in three years. We stood around in groups talking to one another. We helped each other out. We shared information and resources. We had the woman across the street over for dinner.

We re-introduced ourselves to an aspect of our humanity that we risk losing in this age of instant global connection and loss of local intimacy (see my post, The Singularity).

I have to go.

My technology anonymous meeting begins in 15 minutes.