Monday 6 September 2010

Here I Am Late At Night Wasting Time On My Laptop In Bed for my website  for my other website for the A Graceful Death exhibition, paintings from the end of life

How Can So Much Time Be Spent On Facebook

How can I have spent so many hours in my big new bed tonight, sending witty one liners to all my contacts on Facebook?  I had thought that a) I would not go onto Facebook, easy, just a matter of willpower  b)  I would write my blog and c) I would have an early night, it being such a busy life and all that.  But no.  Just a wee peek, I said to myself.  Just a wee peek?  There is no such thing as a Wee Peek on Facebook!  I should have said to myself, Just a wee few hours.  Everything I wrote on Facebook seemed vitally important while I was writing it. A message from So and So?  Quick, say something back and make it funny.  That will get a response, said my Unconcious.  And so it went on.  While I was being very quick and sharp two other contacts popped up over the chat thing and wham.  I was into two way instant conversations and witty comments on various pages and before I knew it, it was past 10pm.  I started at about 7pm.  And what had I said?  I had said an enormous amount but did it mean anything?  No, not really.  But I did have the sensation of being dreadfully engaged with folk out there, even if I couldn't see them and didn't remember how I knew them.

Actually, I needed some time to flutter about on Facebook.  This weekend was a wonder of Planning and Achievement.  Eileen came to stay to help, and Alan dropped in after pushing the limits of the human body at tennis, and both boys were here, and a very nice fun couple moved in to my rooms downstairs, so we all started the weekend in a whirl of mild but genteel chaos.  As we all swirled around in the house here, like small subsections of busy bees in a hive, things Got Done.  13 Year Old Son starts a new school tomorrow.  He wears a surgical shoe on his broken foot and has a (lethal) crutch to help him walk around. (He tries to shoot people with it).  I bought his uniform, sewed on the nametapes (he didn't like his name being sewn on, it was too embarassing.  If I had put the name Wayne Rooney on all his uniform, that would be OK.) and have proudly put the whole outfit on his chair for tomorrow.  "And shoes my Darling Wayne?" I said.  "Where are your school shoes? "  13 Year Old Son is now about 6' tall and is well meaning but all over the place.  When I was buying the uniform, he would not let me get shoes - "But Mum," he hissed, " I have school shoes at home."  "At home?"  I said blankly, "do you?"  "I promise I have my school shoes at home and  I hate having shoes fitted and blah blah blah"  So we went home.  Tonight I had a dreadful flashback to the end of last term.  "Die!" I now remember saying to his school shoes which looked like the boot Charlie Chaplain tried to eat in his wonderful film sketch,  "Die!" and throwing them into the bin.  Ooops.  13 Year Old Son comforted me then by saying that he only needs one shoe anyway, and that he will use one of the Muppet's shoes.  One of the Muppet's shoes?  The Muppet needs his shoes and only has one pair...oh what the hell.  They can both spend tomorrow with one shoe each.  

It is late.  While writing this I have been chatting on the phone  wasting time and ridding the Son's room of spiders, one of which was living just below the light bulb of his bedside lamp.  What spirit!  I said to it as I removed it with a piece of cloth from the searing heat of the light bulb.  It yawned and stretched its legs, obviously delighted with the heat and light.  You must be a kind of extremospider, I told it as I chucked it out into the rain and wind of the Bognor night.  I expect it got caught on a stiff breeze outside and got blown to the Bahamas where it is thanking its lucky stars that it no longer has to live in a light bulb in a house in Bognor Regis.

So, it still being late, I shall go to sleep and be up early to start another day.  I am very very busy at the moment, there seems to be a kind of whirlwind in my life, and if I didn't know any better, I would think I was some kind of extremomum.  But, (graceful sigh) tomorrow the Summer Holidays are at an end.  I can't wait for some order and balance to return to my days and for the paintings that I am due to complete to be my priority.  Yawn.  Wonder how the spider is doing in the Bahamas?

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