I really shouldn’t spend so much time with you. Other parts of my life suffer.
I really should exercise more. Or at least a little bit. Who am I kidding? My exercise routine consists of rolling out of bed and descending the one flight of stairs in my house on my way to you. Once there, I plant myself for hours with minimal movement.
Headphones make the experience better. They help block out the sounds of the house and allow greater immersion. The faintest background sounds can easily be drowned out by raising the volume in my ears. Chinchillas running in their cages, guinea pigs squeaking and scrabbling in their pen are blissfully ignored.
Family members come and go. Some pause long enough to shake their heads at me before moving on. They know I’ll be wrapped up in my pointless activity and will not be torn away without a struggle.
Hours spent gazing at the flickering screen can never be reclaimed.
My private murmurings form in response to simple stimuli like the Daily Post prompt.
I am a blogger.
Whether it’s a trashy TV show, extra-pulpy fiction, or nutrient-free candy, write a thank-you note to your guiltiest guilty pleasure.