I’ve been in LA for five days, visiting my kids and my nephew’s family, completely disconnected from my normal reality. We ate great food, drove through Beverly Hills, walked along Venice Beach, played poker at a casino, went to The Getty, hung out in my nephew’s hot tub. I checked my e-mail 3 times, quickly. Now I’m back home, have been awake only a few hours this morning, and have been on the computer most of that time.
I have almost lost the ability to hand write, or to think about writing when I’m away from my computer. (And it has to be my computer, not someone else's) My brain connects writing with my computer. My brain connects work and self-importance to my computer. According to a fascinating book I’m reading for a review, Everyday Survival by Laurence Gonzales, our brain writes scripts (and we’re also born with pre-written scripts right in our DNA), and it takes a great deal of effort to rewrite or change these scripts, even if we understand that what we’re doing is not good for us. I moan and groan that the computer is ruining me, and yet. . . Here I am.
Here I will be.