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from gapingvoid.com

gapingvoid.com

 

“At what point do our interests, passions and pastimes cross over into that shadowy zone that separates normal and pathological?” *

 This is the question I ask myself after reading this article on the Psychology Today Web site. I found it through a link on Twitter. I was on Twitter after a quick check of e-mail and Facebook. All this when I was supposed to be doing something else.

But it’s a good thing I avoided responsibility and took this very important quiz. Apparently, I’m sliding on the slippery slope toward blogaholism. 

I’m not a blogaholic. But I may have a friend who is one, because she has way more of these symptoms than I do. 

I’m not a blogaholic. If I were, I’d be packing my suitcase for BlogHer, right? I’d have a Facebook fan page for my  blog, OK?

I’m not there. Yet.

It’s a greased pole to rock bottom. A few more signs listed in the article help me understand how the mighty fall:

 Recurrent blog use resulting in failure to fulfill major role obligations at work, school or home.

 I’m a little ashamed of what has happened to some of my gardens this year. And the lawn? Can we just get one of those Arizona type gardens with all the rocks and cactuses and stuff that you can ignore for a year or two? 

Recurrent blog usage in situations in which it is physically (or emotionally) hazardous (driving and/or making love).

So, writing a blog post while making love while driving is crossing the line. Got it. I’m OK on that one. Although I do occasionally write dirty prose in longhand while driving. My husband just bought a new touch phone so I’ve felt a little left out of that party.

Continued blogging use despite having persistent or recurrent social or interpersonal problems caused by or exacerbated by the effects of blogging.

Well, this is a tricky one here. You know, I send my husband messages on Facebook and DM him on Twitter when dinner is ready or when I need him to go to the store for me, but we don’t always connect. Sometimes he doesn’t get the Tweet until an hour after dinner. He arrives home to a meal that has gone cold. Or burned. Or cooked without a key ingredient.

 I just found out he was mad at me last Thursday. The e-mail somehow ended up in the Spam folder. I’m hoping we can work it out somehow.

Honey, leave me a comment, would you please?

 

* Blogaholism-Is It In You? — Psychology Today