I'm back from the edge.
It turns out fresh baked bread is delicious, November Rain is not as good without the strings, and I can actually work efficiently at my computer if I ignore 3/4 of the options open to me.
I'm going to have to remember that, moving forward.
I've been fully back online since yesterday afternoon, and the difference has been night and day. It started out innocent: after opening up Firefox, I talked to a few friends, checked my usual pages. But within an hour, I had returned to a troublesome pattern, the timesink that inspired my self imposed off-lining in the first place.
As it turns out, my instincts were the same as millions of other online chumps. When given the agency of the network and the choice of any online activity, I spent my time playing the slots.
Because what else is Packrat? It is, frankly, embarrassing how entertained and numbed I have been by this stupid little Facebook app. The quotes on the game's opening page speak warning volumes to anyone who cares to listen. It's empty calories, pointless activity cycles of rapid clicking perpetuated by the hope of finding something special or desired in the grind.
Hmmmm.... funny, that reminds me of another game I've played.
Both of these games are insanely popular because they have the balance of monotony and reward down to a science. They pray masterfully on my obsessive tendencies . They deserve to be studied for their resounding success at drawing me and the multitudes like me, hour after hour, deeper down the rabbit hole.
But at their hearts, both games are glorified slot machines. Worse, they're slot machines with the last psychological barrier, the stream of quarters lost one by one, removed. There is no money being wasted, only time, and it's much easier to ignore the minutes falling away because I have, ostensibly, so MANY of them to my name.
The reason I don't play MMO's (and that I'm back on the internet but, once again, OFF Packrat), is not because I don't like these games. I don't play them because I find them too successful in what they do. I know some people are good at managing it, and others love the social environment, but personally, I tend to fall in to the system.
Luckily I'm doing something I care about here at USC, so when I finally emerge and wipe the item-drop-probabilities from my eyes, I can safely say, "my time is worth more than this." I can feel insulted, and turn away. That indignance has saved me thus far.
But some day, someone will make a slot machine that dishes out something I actually care about... delicious food, maybe.... and I will while away my remaining years waiting for a foie gras, pancetta and sea urchin souffle to drop.
Wow, what a cheery return to blogging. Hello everyone! I know it's hard to tell from this post, but it really is good to be back. As long as I can keep my online experience feeling like more of a conference call and less of a casino, I won't be needing another sabbatical any time soon.