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So here I am. Still trying to figure out what I’m doing, and half wondering if I really want to. Mother’s Day got me out of the chair and away from the computer for most of the weekend, and I’m almost glad about that.

In the time it took me to write those few sentences, there were 27 tweets that I missed.

It’s a mind-numbing, deafening deluge of information that I’m trying to take in, a lot of it attempting to influence me in a way I really don’t want to be influenced. This is all about promoting myself. I need to project the proper image, an image which should reflect my writing and speak to my target audience. Blah blah, blah blah.

I just missed 21 more tweets.

It kind of reminds me of the first week spent on a firebase. On the honeymoon night, the sound of the 8-inchers responding to a fire mission is a metal-on-metal CHING! that jerks you out of sleep and just about makes you piss your pants. You get up and watch the gunners work with your hands over your ears because you can’t sleep through all the racket anyway. By the third night, you no longer hear the metal-on-metal when the gunners go to work, but the cannon fire is still loud enough to wake you up and make you get up to watch. On the fourth night, you only watch the show with one eye. At the end of that first week, you don’t even roll over.

I just missed 25 more tweets.