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posted on: July 8, 2008

This summer, I have fallen into a routine. After the morning jog, I settle down at the kitchen table with OJ in hand, keys at my itching fingertips, and log on to my proverbial cup of coffee. My fingers blindly type in my username and password and I pull my still jittery legs up under me. Nine a.m. sunshine illuminates the three dearest words to my screen-attached eyes. Welcome to Facebook. What will friends and non-friends alike say, send, and stalk today? Feeling especially Kathleen Kelly-esque, I wait impatiently as my Home loads. I bite the inside of my cheek in anticipation…..I have notifications. Friend requests. On good days, a Bumper Sticker. I stall until my sister’s wandering eyes are distracted by the jumpy toaster, and click on the little red balloon of joy. I wonder why I care who wrote on my wall and commented on my profile pic. Because I like to say I don’t. But I still log on, still reply, and still poke. The birds’ chirps are drowned out by the chorus of keys as I message away. Everything I write is silly and unmoving but I write it anyway. Probably in hopes I’ll get something back. From you.

2 thought{s}:

  1. Oh my goodness. This is SO true. Calling it a cup of coffee is perfect. Tomorrow, I hope to make your day a "good day." I'm off to find you a bumper sticker. :)

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  2. it's a wonder to know that someones morning is just the same as mine lol

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She's a piratey soul, full a' vinegar and glitter.

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