Summertime additions are the best.

When I was 12 years old we had a Gameboy and I was so addicted to Tetris that I’d lay in bed at night, unable to sleep, imagining shapes falling from the ceiling, staring up, building super tetrises in the dark.  A few years back it was Zuma; something about shooting colored balls from a frog’s mouth had me hooked.  In fact just thinking about it now makes me want to play a “quick” game.  But I know better, there’s no such thing as a quick game, or just one.  I’m too easily a junkie to get involved with that kind of stuff.  But I haven’t quit cold-turkey, I’ve taken to Lumosity for my little fix.  It’s something like the nicotine patch for game junkies, the free account limits you to three, pre selected, games a day.  Lasting a total of maybe 15 minutes.  Once a day, it’s not bad right?  It’s not much, and because the games are supposed to be good for your brain and memory I tell myself it’s okay.  I’d spring for a paid account, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t restrict my play time, so I’ve told myself I have to wait until I’m done with grad school.   I’m counting down the days.  And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered opening a second account to get a little extra play time in.

In Kelley Dudoit week two blog post she reflected on some of her mindless internet wandering finds and the fact that 53% of us go online for no particular reason except to have fun and pass the time. It’s become so easy to flip through your Facebook profile in line at the grocery store or play a game of Angry Birds in the waiting room, but how do those little “time-killing” habits so easily become time-wasting addictions for me?

In week three of 642 I have my first major/minor melt down.  With work-school (my teaching job) about to overlap with school-school (grad school) I’ve been super anxiety monster.  I sit so long in front of what has become a mind-numbing computer screen, clicking between different assignments, trying to make sense of it all, but at the end of the day I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing. Maybe I should at least play a game of Zuma.  But I don’t, I snap instead, get mad at the computer, pick a silly fight with my boyfriend, feel sorry for myself and go to bed.

In the morning it’s all still there, but less overwhelming.  I step back from it all, step away for the day.  The break does me well, I’m reminded that it’s good to be out of my comfort zone and that this too shall pass.  I find a comfort in my writing I haven’t known for awhile and while there’s still an overflowing to-do list and a shrinking time frame, tomorrows another day- and another opportunity to play on Lumosity.