I have been feeling like this a lot lately:
You Had Better Hurry — Read those blogs, write those posts, comment, tweet, ignore more goddamn app requests on Facebook (Public Service Announcement: even if I adore you and/or your work, I will almost certainly not become a Fan of it, or you) — and oh, yeah, live that life that happens offline.
A frequent exchange at our house: “What are you doing?” “Reading the Internet. I was almost done, but then there was more Internet.”
And, duh, the existence of interesting conversations online, and the desire to follow and participate in them, these are not bad things. But when I’m away for a while, and I’m trying to catch up, I can feel the anxiety build: what have they been talking about? when did that become an in-joke? wait, do I have the faintest notion what that hashtag is even referencing?
It’s nuts. I read fast, so in some ways, it’s easier. But argh, sometimes I do wonder how the people inside the computer got to be so important. (I love you all.)
Any strategies for maintaining good boundaries in a relationship with the Internet?