Tied to the Computer

photo courtesy of freefoto.comThe other day in yoga my instructor commented that she'd finally had a chance to check her e-mail. "It's been almost 3 weeks!" she said with a "what-can-you-do" smile. "I just haven't had a chance to get to the computer."

The very idea of not sitting down in front of my computer for anything over a 12-hour time period sends cold chills down my spine. Yet I'm envious of those who don't feel the need to spend their lives tethered to a small, transportable box. I would like to lessen the pull my laptop has on my life. My need to be constantly checking, updating, sending is a creature of my own making, yet one I have no idea how to banish. 

I'm a bit concerned over how ties to the Internet affect our brains. I've read articles that say for all our multi-tasking skills, our society actually has far fewer focusing skills than generations past. If it can't be dealt with in under a minute, we have a hard time wrapping our brains around it. 

I grew alarmed last night when in the middle of watching a movie I had the sudden urge to go check my e-mail. No real reason. It was 9 o'clock at night, I wasn't expecting an e-mail on any certain topic, but I literally had to make myself stay in my seat and not go into my office "just to see" what might have arrived. 

Houston, we have a problem. 

Personally, I think I check e-mail so often from a fear of "getting behind." I'd rather see what pops up that I can deal with now versus having my workday potentially crowded with a number of small details I could have attended to last night or over the weekend. But this is backwards logic. If I set aside certain hours in a week where I deal with, for example, e-mails and "to-do's" for the Animal Protection Society, I'd be more centered and, I'm convinced, more productive, than dealing with each and every little e-mail as it comes in.

Same thing with all the alerts and blog posts and newsletters I receive. I read these out of a sense of duty more than interest. But how often do I use the material? Not too often. Yet I fear if I delete them the next e-zine will contain that one big idea I've been looking for. 

As a nation, I think we're looking to simplify and I feel the same pull in my life. I don't expect to ever go 3 weeks without a computer, but I'd like to flip the switch at the end of the day and be done with it. 

Blair and I have done very well with our TV cutting goal. Perhaps a little less computer time is next?

Busy Friday

It's almost 8 AM and I need to be out the door in under 15 minutes. Heading into Greensboro today for a L-O-N-G, but fun, day. 

I'm teaching a class on Networking to job searchers this morning at the Women's Resource Center. That's followed by a flurry of errands that MUST include an allergy shot, then lunch with friends. After that I hope to plant myself somewhere for at least 3 hours worth of work. Then off to a friend's book signing and then dinner with writer friends to critique a member's manuscript. Home before 10 (I hope) and up early tomorrow for a 15-mile run. 

Not complaining. Actually loving it. Today is a good mix of people, activity, down town and, my favorite, food. 

It's a miracle I make it out the door for these 12-hour days. I've got a stack of "must remember to bring" stuff piled on the front chair that includes a Richmond marathon CD for a friend, recipes for another friend, manuscript in a box with my notes for critique, checkbook, library books to be returned, book to be mailed, class manual, work folders, ... I look like a bag-lady and I swear I'm but a short step away from ditching my briefcase and just dumping everything in a Hefty tall kitchen trash bag, tossing it over my shoulder and moving out.

Speaking of which, time for me to hussle out of here. Have a great Friday!

Food Processor: Friend or Foe?

Our camera is on the blink which is just as well as I'm not so sure I want documented evidence of the mess I make when  I "cook." It may be time to bow to reality and admit that I just don't have the cooking gene in me. None of this chopping, measuring, pouring stuff comes naturally to me and, frankly, when you find yourself screaming at the frozen spinach because it didn't have the foresight to thaw itself, chances are good you were never meant to be in the kitchen in the first place...

But my lack of culinary skills didn't stop me from purchasing a 10-cup (that's right) food processor this weekend. I've been bypassing tasty recipes for years under the "I don't have the equipment to make it properly" excuse and decided enough was enough. I too, want to join millions of family across America enjoying tasty home-cooked food processed meals.

What I didn't foresee was that one must apparently some have kind of advanced engineering degree to even put the thing together. I had tubes and plastic covers and graters and blades spread across every kitchen counter as I debated whether I needed to pour myself a cup of gin to get through the instruction manual. I powered through, however, plugged in the food processor and hit PULSE.

Nothing.

Shake, shake. I hit PULSE again. Still nothing. Rattle, shake. Silence. That gin is looking mighty fine about now.

The instructions say if the bowl isn't properly locked in place the machine won't operate. So I jiggle the bowl free only to discover that disengages the blade, which I can't push back down because the food in the bowl is now blocking where the blade needs to be and son of a @#$$@# I go to the cupboard and dump everything in the food processing bowl into a regular bowl, refit the bowl and blade onto the machine, dump everything back in, make a small sacrificial offering to the cooking gods and hit PULSE.

YES!! We have pulse action.

As I add ingredients, a little bit of the pulsed food is flying free from the side chute thingee. As I see no way to prevent this occurrence, I file it in the already overstuffed, "I'll deal with that later" section of my brain.

So I get this lasagna sauce made and everything in the crock pot and take a step back to view my kitchen. Spinach strands, tomato pulp, onion skins and every pot, pan, and measuring cup I own stare back at me. I spend 20 minutes longer cleaning the kitchen than I did preparing the recipe, including the 10 minutes it took to disassemble and wipe down the food processor. 

This is progress? It would have been quicker for me to bow hunt and dress a deer. Probably less of a struggle too. 

What Blair doesn't know is that a counter full of food processor parts awaits his return home tonight. I have no idea where we're going to store this thing. But I'm pretty sure I've decided that's not my problem.

I'll let you know how the sauce turns out. For all this work, it better kill over Ragu. 

My Day Started In The Trash. And Yours?

Coffee grounds... kitty fur... banana peel... used tissues... dental floss... remnants of last night's dinner...

That's what I was digging through around 6:30 AM. How'd your day start?

Blair had an associate from Korea (Korea? I think that's right.) call this morning about 5:30. Blair grabbed his Blackberry, set the case aside, and took the call.

When he went to leave the house--no case. We searched EVERYWHERE. He'd been feeding the fish when the call came in, so we were even scanning the tank to see if he'd dropped it in there. After looking in obvious places, we started looking in the fridge, in the cat toy box, his robe, the bed, the cupboard where we keep the cleaning supplies... Trust me when I say we took 20 minutes and tore this house apart. And still, nothing.

"What about the trash bag?" said Blair, referring to the bag I'd already taken to the curb. 

"Didn't I take that out before you got your call?" I asked.

"No, you started emptying trash cans around the house while I was on the phone."

Outside I went, bringing the trash bag back in the house. We opened it in the kitchen and proceeded to sort through it. Yuck, yuck and yuck. Thankfully, we found the case not too far down. A thorough washing with hot water and Blair was on his way. 

The good thing about digging through trash in the  morning is it's really hard for your day to go downhill from there. 

I hope.

Happy Tuesday, everyone.