"I'm not an addict," I say with the emphasis and quicker-than-usual timing of a statement made in a reflexive effort to cover up an obvious fact. Andy and Elizabeth burst into laughter, and I join soon after, recognizing my classic symptom of denial. Though it could apply to lots of things, the topic is computers… You know the way things go… My statement is tested the very next day, as my beloved machine has to go spend a couple of days with the doctor to get some internal conflicts resolved (growing pains). In the morning I feel a void, find myself wondering what to do.
Then gradually I adapt, start moving around the house, wash some dishes that had been lying there for a while. I even remember how I used to write on scraps of paper with a pencil and scribble down some notes. Jim's been reading Carlos Castenada again, listens to my tribulations with manias, cites some wisdom of Don Juan to the effect that good things can become negatives when they move from conscious participation to being mindless habits. I think about it, questioning my own behavior, really asking what makes me do the things I do. Then I think of more general patterns, about eating not because of hunger but for the sensation of food, or drinking not because of thirst but for the taste or the feeling of the liquid moving down ones throat (or for other effects), or driving not because of the need to get somewhere but for the thrill of moving. Starts getting pretty fuzzy, the line between healthy enjoyment and obsessive, unthinking actions used for self-distraction.
Easy to get so fixated in some microcosm that you lose sight of the reality around you. Like the other day I was boppin' along focused on my errands. I look up, right into a beautiful face (drop-dead gorgeous, I think is the technical term), her eyes sparkling, laughing, looking right into me. Momentarily flabbergasted and caught completely off guard, I feel myself start to blush, which, of course, makes me blush even more. Later I laugh my ass off (at myself, of course). Life is grand, ain't it? And I'm thinkin' man, it's springtime an' I been hidin' out in my cave too long. Gotta venture out blinking into the sunny sun, breathe in the sweet air, and soak in the brilliant colors of the beautiful flowers blossumin' all around.
   
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