It's Not an Addiction, It's a Habit

Years ago, while cruising an antique store, I came across a small pamphlet from the 1800's extolling the virtues of an elixir that was guaranteed to help one break free from the chains of "the solitary habit."

The pamphlet was comprised of anonymous testimonials from people who used the elixir and, much to their surprise, no longer felt the need to indulge. As an added benefit, their acne cleared up, some went back to school, others were finally able to hold down a job, and their lives were restored to happiness and balance.

At the time, I thought the solitary habit was, uh, well...you know. But I was oh-so-wrong! I have recently fallen victim to that very habit and realize they were referring to reading the entertainment news on the Internet.

It's terrible. My life is out of control. I no longer write, I haven't got time. Most of my day is spent hunched in front of my computer poring over pictures of Britany at her skankiest, reading about Dog's fall from grace, wondering if Paris will ever go to Rwanda, hoping Foxy Brown will get the model-prisoner-award she's working so hard to receive.

It's terrible. If only I hadn't cast that pamphlet aside with a superior sneer, I would have rememberd the name of the elixir, ordered some today, and gotten my life back on track. Instead it looks like I'll be searching for a twelve-step program. If I'm lucky, we'll meet at an Internet cafe.