It all started one bright sunny afternoon when I answered my brother’s request to play a game on Facebook. Facebook is noted for having a whole lot of games and interactive role playing intrigues that can become so addictively overwhelming. Now, we set our day according to the time that oven contents in Cafe world are cooked and must be served. What has become of our own normal routines?
Gone are the thoughts of H1N1 Flu or any other reality based concerns. Gone are the hours that we used to talk and visit with friends who made the effort to respond in kind to our pleasant times together. Gone are the normal concerns that normal adults might have in blogging with friends, filling photo albums on various websites like Webshots and such. I remember something like fourteen websites that I had constructed and maintained as a pleasure and pasttime that I enjoyed so much. Oh well, it is strange how things can become so twisted and urgently demanding out of all proportions.
This is our third day of continuous snow falling lightly with a mix of fog, rain, and sleet. Nothing substantial has remained on the cold ground that is not cold enough to keep the thin layers of snow from melting during the day. Only this morning did everything turn completely white with frost that lasted for less than an hour. It isn’t quite winter yet, although it is certainly trying.
I notice that my fingers are hurting after only this bit of typing when I have been clicking with my trackball mouse most of the time. I do have to relearn my keyboarding skills that are so rusty as to make numerous typos and other mistakes in grammar and spelling. Hm.
I do have to make a routine of everything that needs to be done, from housecleaning to blogging and other Internet demands that I used to do so willingly. An almost non-existent budget has kept me housebound when the fear of spending money I don’t have overcomes my need to go outside. Somehow I have become trapped into playing those silly computer games instead of participating in reality.
It has been over three years since the last time I had a visit to a hairdresser to have my locks cut. My locks are now down to my waist and hang with a heavily sodden weight after my daily bath to straighten my spinal curvature. As long as I straighten my back at least daily, I am avoiding the permanent curve that marks other people with my genetic disease.
I still can’t walk any more or less than across the house at any one time. More than that leaves me collapsed down on the floor for hours until I recover enough to try again. That means I have become more dependent upon my old electric wheelchair that sadly needs a full reconditioning. Ah, back to the non-existent budget again when the big blue Ford wheelchair equipped van needs brakes and a muffler long before I could think of replacing the electric batteries of the electric wheelchair. It is a stretch to think of buying another set of Crayola coloured pencils for my drawings or glue and balsa wood for my scale model constructions of buildings.
I can’t reach my toes anymore to do my toe nails. I can’t reach past my ears towards the back of my head from the two ten inch scars from both lung operations of a few years ago. I can’t even raise my arms past my shoulders in height because of the limiting scars that mark where my muscles were surgically separated so that my lungs could be reinflated. And, it hurts me so much just to sit at Super Stupid, my old dependable computer and access to the Internet. I have so much to write about that I have done in my life. I should only think about telling stories instead of writing them out.