The Aerie

Notspot

Poop.

Well this is just wrong.

I'm sitting at my favorite neighborhood cafe... and I'm on the Internet.

I know, I know - wireless hotspots are all the rage, yeah. But I come to the Blue Moon in order to escape the Internet, escape work, escape e-mail.

I just realized, I could actually sit here and do my work. I mean, my work-work, my 40-hour-per-week contract job. I could do it here.

That's just wrong.

This is where I should be able to come and have no more opportunity for distraction than another pointless game of Solitaire, or eavesdropping on other people's conversations.

Instead, here I am, IM'ed and blogging and fetching my e-mail.

You know what else is depressing? Here's what's depressing. I was going to say "Cripes, by the time I'm fifty, they'll have chips implanted in your brain and you'll always be online..."

But of course, by "fifty", I meant "At some incredibly distant time in the future."

But as soon as that thought formed in my brain, an answer cough up...

"No, that stuff won't exist in eight years."

Fine.

Great.

I'm going to be fifty... (FIFTY!?) in eight years.

No wireless internet chips in the head. No flying cars. No space travel. I'm going to be OLD, and I can't hide from it in the shelter of my favorite cafe.

I guess that I'm just going to have to learn to live with all these distractions...

Posted by Albatross at July 10, 2004 11:31 AM