It's almost midnight. I've had far too much sugar. I should go to bed, but I'm not quite ready yet. I've toured every weblog I usually visit, just to see if there is anything new or anything I missed. I'm clicking through news sights.
In other words, I'm not doing a damn thing worth doing.
What is it about the web that invites the same pointless clicking that television does? I go from site to site, everywhere I've been just 20 minutes before. Nothing has changed, usually. What did I expect? Or did the TV form this weird expectation? Even with all the channels we have now, there are times I simply flip from channel to channel, looking for something to distract me. It's like checking the refrigerator for the 14th time -- is something going to magically appear that wasn't there before? Are the fridge fairies going to drop off more icecream any moment now?
Or maybe it's my appetites that I'm slowly flipping through, and I have to keep checking -- "Am I in the mood for it now? How about now? Now?"
But the web is worse. because it is so vast, and I cover such a tiny portion of it. Of course, there's only so much of it that is "worthwhile", in that there are too many sites trying to sell me something, or show me something I don't want, or tease and titillate me into sharing my credit card number, or otherwise get something from me. I'm picky about the web stuff I look at and if I go through a lot of sites, they tend to run together so I can't tell what's cool from what's drek. What am I hungry for?
Maybe, maybe, somewhere in my head, there's some little kid trying to close that fridge door and open it again, so she can see the little penguin run out to turn off the light.