I used to have a life where I left the house, went out in the world and accomplished things. I seem to recall I put on actual pants when I did this. Then I discovered the Internet, work primarily from home, and I don’t wear pants anymore.
O.K., technically I wear lounge pants. These are kind of like regular pants but comfortable and stretchy and really, no matter how you try to pretty it up with the fancy Frenchy sounding words like “lounge,” these are pajama pants through and through.
I swore when I began working from home over a decade ago that I wouldn’t become one of “those women” who wander around in sweat pants all day. Now I couldn’t even raise the bar that high. I don’t even aspire to sweat. I wear lounge pants and do as little as humanly possible.
I also swore I wouldn’t become an Internet addict. Then I went ahead and became one because the Internet is addictive. I can stay busy doing absolutely nothing all day long.
I have become unable to function without access to all the useless information in the world on hand at all times. I’ve never felt so productive doing so little. The surgeon general really needs to put a warning on this thing.
It is very important to me that I can Google endlessly, anywhere. I must also be able to check books out of the local library online, send an email, and buy things I don’t need as quickly as possible via Amazon and eBay. Amazon is to me what oxygen is to normal people.
I still shop locally when possible but for me that’s pretty much a hardware store and a gas station, after that I’m at the mercy of big-box stores and the mall.
A few weeks ago the temperature was hovering near 100 degrees in mid-May. That’s just not right. If it’s that hot in late spring what would summer bring? Life on the surface of the sun?
Since this old house does not have any ductwork (another attack of “charm,” make a list), we are best served by window air conditioning units. Do you know that Amazon could ship two A/C units to my door more frugally than I could wrestle them home from the store myself? Those things practically sold themselves.
I clicked to order and two days later two air conditioning units were waiting at my door. The temperature then immediately plunged into unseasonably cool territory and remains there to this day. That, my friends, is the magic of the Internet. You can thank me later.
I’ve long joked that if I could order food and gasoline via the Internet, I might never leave the house. As it turns out, you can order food, clothing, batteries, books and coffee. The NTSB is still touchy on the gasoline though. Killjoys.
I’ve been thinking of finding a new style — or any style. Apparently I don’t have one. I almost left the house for that but as luck would have it, the Internet lured me back in (they also don’t sell clothing at the Ace Hardware. Not even T-shirts. I checked).
Another fun Internet site called Polyvore lets me create my dream closet without spending a dime or losing a pound. I can drag and drop a variety of clothing pieces in to a “set” and match it all up cute right down to the handbag and earrings.
This is far more enjoyable than actually shopping, trying on clothing, and so on because I’m pretty sure on Polyvore everyone is a size 2.
I then share these outfits via Pinterest — a cooking, craft and fashion site for people who don’t really like to do or make things. In this way I get credit from my “Followers” for having great taste — all without lifting a finger — or a weight.
Meanwhile, Amazon continues to send me daily reminders of items currently for sale that I might like simply because the Internet is GIVING like that.
So what, pray tell, does the Internet suggest? A case of nutrition bars, a BPA free water bottle and running shoes . All due to my recent purchase of something called “track pants?” As it turns out this is another term for “lounge pants” and some people actually run in these things. Who knew?