I suck at snappy comebacks.
When I find myself in a conversation that gets my panties in a bunch, I get so emotionally caught up in the moment, my tongue gets tied. I freeze. I walk away feeling like there are so many words left unsaid. Then I stew, fret and obsess.
And finally, hours or days later, I come up with the perfect comeback. I find the words that are witty, insightful and poignant (to me, at least). And, of course, by that time, it’s too late. The only one who even remembers what initially prompted the comeback is me.
Verbal comebacks are not my thing.
But apparently, I’m good at the other type of snappy comeback.
You know, the kind when you vow to quit something (like, say, blogging), decide after a whopping four days in that you really can’t stay away, and then reappear on the scene like a teenage drama queen. That kind of comeback.
Last week, I wrote about taking time off from blogging. About feeling overwhelmed by too many pots on the stove. About needing a break and simplifying. I decided to put writing temporarily on hold.
I was thinking about taking anywhere from 3-6 weeks off. I did. Turns out, those weeks were just measured in dog years.
In retrospect, the whole withdrawal thing probably would have gone over a lot better if I would have removed Google Reader as my homepage. Do you know any recovering shopaholics that spend their day hanging out at the mall? I do. They’re the well dressed ones who found all the best deals.
The truth is, after about 48 hours, I started to miss it. Maybe it’s the forbidden apple syndrome, but seeing the blog and not being able to use it suddenly made me really how much I like having it in my life. And, in my own little melodramatic way, I think I’ve grown to actually need it.
What else has changed in seven days? Lots. And nothing.
I haven’t been on Blog Frog or Twitter for a whole week. I think I’ve been on Facebook two times since then, which is a record for me. I’ve suddenly found some missing hours from every day I forgot I had.
I’m also learning to accept the fact that I will never, in this lifetime, see the bottom of my Google Reader box. I actually deleted everything in it, and started from scratch. It was a little sad, seeing all of those not-yet-discovered little gems disappear. But it also felt cleansing.
I can’t read the entire internet every night. And I can’t reply to all comments or visit every commenter’s blog like I want to. I have to be okay with that.
This past week, I’ve come to realize just how much time I spent in the evenings (after the kids had gone down for bed) commenting, writing, networking, or just dinking around aimlessly on the internet. I would sit down for a few minutes, and it would turn into hours without me realizing it. I’ve been able to physically turn off the computer, back slowly away, and go spend some time doing something meaningful with my better half.
This week, our meaningful activity has been to have Jay whomp me at Frogger on the Playstation. I’ve discovered I like getting whomped. Actually, that’s a lie. I hate losing. But I’d rather be trounced by Jay than anyone else.
And so, I’m tentatively venturing back in to something I really like. I’m going to take it one day at a time, and try not to lose sight of why I’m doing this. I’m going to attempt not to change things I have no control over. I’m going to try to not stew, or fret or obsess.
Maybe, by doing that, I’ll find the right words. Maybe, this snappy comeback will be a meaningful one.