True Confessions of a “Like” oholic
I’ve never smoked crack, shot heroine or drank alcohol, but I have an addiction. Out of nowhere, it snuck up on me. Like the abrupt discovery of a fast moving cancer, I realized, “Houston, we got a problem.”
I’m a likeoholic and it’s crazy because just 10 years ago I was the woman who didn’t want a cell phone. “I don’t need one, “ I’d argue. And then I became the one clinging to her flip phone, complete with basic service. “No I don’t send or receive text messages,” I’d say, to the shock of the hearer.
Honestly, it was sheer bliss living in my cave next door to the Flintstones. Who cared if the rest of the world tweeted, texted, or shared cyber messages across America? I was content in the dark, until I tasted the 21st century, and liked it.
Click here to read the rest of this post at The Mudroom Blog.