It was 7º F. here this morning. So much for the January thaw.
I'm an only child, pretty good at amusing myself. For the most part, I do all right living alone. I'm never bored. But sometimes I miss having someone to talk to. Writing is all about telling. But telling is not the same as talking. This explains, I think, how I got hooked on a website that would probably not have attracted me otherwise--at least not enough to have created an addiction.
The site is populated by a large number of of people, almost all women, most of whom are kindhearted and fun-loving. (Like all populations, it includes a few snots.) When I lost several pets a year ago, they felt my pain and posted accordingly. They really were a comfort. And they've made me laugh. But I realized recently that I've been spending way too much time on a website where they talk about TV shows I've neve watched, recipes I'll never make, and relatives I can't keep straight. Every morning they pose a question: Do you keep your toilet lid up or down? What did you have for dinner last night? Are you an innie or an outie? This morning the question was Do you own a toaster oven?
I deleted the site from my Favorites list and added it to my New Years list of addictions I have to overcome, where it joins yogurt, walnuts, bittersweet chocolate, and laptop Scrabble.