Being addicted to the Internet these days is like being allergic to your own blood. It’s everywhere. No escaping the escape.

If you’re like me, it’s 5:30 am and you’re reading this in the dark with your wife/husband asleep in the bed across from you, dinner half eaten and hard as a rock on the desk beside your laptop, and your kids, who will be up in half an hour to get ready for school, have stopped seeing you as an authority. Welcome to Internet Addiction.

In 1993 when my then-husband suggested that we get a computer and connect to the Internet, I didn’t really see the point. For what? Looking up stuff? Sure, I had a Commodore 64 growing up, but the most I did with it was enter 27 pages of pre-printed code in the hopes of having a video game to play or use POKE and 40 GOTO 10 to change the screen colors in rapid fashion. BBS didn’t sound like my idea of fun. I knew those guys in real life; I didn’t need to talk to them on the computer too. It wasn’t until I found the Prodigy adult chatrooms that I realized just how brilliant my then-husband was. Of course, it wasn’t with my then-husband, but then it never is, is it?

I got my degree in Information Technology because it enabled me to be on the computer more; little did I know how the Internet would permeate modern existence and how difficult gaining control would be. Today, I work out of my house as an Internet Researcher. It’s a lot like being addicted to crack and you get a job at the Crack Factory, but instead of putting you in Testing and Quality Assurance, you’re down the hall in Billing.  You just know those bastards in Testing and QA are not only having the most fun ever in the world, but that they are probably rubbing your face in it, talking shit about you, and most likely insulting your mother for good measure. This is my fight against escapism, and I’m sure at times also my enjoyment of it.


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