Sometimes, we all need a break from these little glowing boxes. How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us UNPLUGGED.
I think this bar-b-q would have been better left unplugged, instead of subjecting my garden and the surroundings to a smoke screen. This box never glowed, it just went up in smoke.
I live on a plug it seems. Computers were a good instrument for a business to survive. Instead of receiving an order by post and sending the confirmation, you were online. In five minutes the deal was done. Such became modern plugged in life. It moved fast, no time to think about it, just do it. At the end of a working day my brain was glad to be unplugged, but was it?
Of course not, it arrived to somewhere called home. I was not a blogging masterpiece at this time, but the seed had been planted. I discovered sites where I could write according to a photo or a subject and jumped on the band wagon. Perhaps this temptation should have been stifled at birth, just carry on baking cakes, knitting, housewifely hobbies in between.
By the time I was retired, I was hooked and had time for the dreaded, habit forming, brain dead Facebook and all its games and silly comments. I know, I should have unplugged before I even did the “online” operation, but it seems I am a sucker for punishiment.
Then we have phase two, the iphone and its brothers and sisters. It is important to be available twenty-four hours a day, you never know. It might be that your president or queen wants to speak to you. Your children will be home late from school, husband has to stay later at work, a life important contract is to be completed and above all he wants to make sure that the food is not cold or overcooked when he arrives home. There is no problem, when all these delays occur, you have more time to complete a field of wheat on Farmville, carry on cooking in your Café World, and buy another house and furniture in Yoville. The world of Zynga games in Facebook is infinite.
One day you wake up, “I want my Life Back” is emblazoned across your brain cells. I refuse to let life be dictated by an imaginary world of people proclaiming their love for their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, dogs and cats (not forgetting Jesus). I no longer want to worry when I sleep in the evening whether my crops have grown and ready for harvesting in Farmville or whether my goals have been completed in my fictitious restaurant. I will leave, well almost. I took the necessary steps I left all my games. I was never someone to love everyone in any case. I was cured. My fields are now lying idle, the stoves in my restaurant are no longer cooking, and my house in Yoville is a ruin. Almost.
WordPress suggested make your own little home in Facebook which I did; a comfortable solution. I no longer care about the 800 colleagues I have in Facebook, there is only an elite invited in my little plugged-in world. If you want me, you know where to find me.
I am now “only” plugged in when and where I want to be. It is my choice and not Mark Zuckerberg’s choice. I wonder if he is sometimes unplugged?
What did I do to make this happen? I made a decision and do what I want to do and not what I have to do. As I am typing this I have a Facebook tab open on my screen, just in case and my iPhone lays on the table next to me – you never know.
By the way, does everyone else get these adverts for holidays in Russia as the first on the daily prompt, that has absolutely nothing to do with the subject. Just wondering? Is this spamming, or pehaps this is a clue to being plugged.
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