I have a new problem.
I discovered Twitter. This is a bad thing. Because, even though I really don't understand Twitter or why anyone uses it, I've come down with OCTD: Obsessive Compulsive Twittering Disorder.
It started innocently enough. I signed up for Twitter (for the second time; I gave up in puzzlement the first time), and I offered my first update. No big deal.
Then I updated again, and I noted I felt a little rush, sort of like the first draw on a cigarette (not that I smoke--except for once, with my cousin Janelle, who taught me how to do it outside a Pizza Hut in Raytown, MO, but that's another story). I felt a rush upon hitting the update button; a little spike of happiness that caused a mini-endorphine party in my brain. Nice!
Twitter asks you, "What are you doing?" It's an open-ended question that calls to me like a Siren. "What are you doing?" Well, right now I am . . .
And so I update again. And again. And again.
The reality is that, hardly anyone is following me, and I sincerely doubt that those six people are interested in the fact that I am waiting with anticipation for my new DSi or that I watched a movie.
But, strangely, it doesn't matter! That's because each time I update, I am rewarded with undeniable satisfaction that I am actually doing something! Ah! Affirmation! Productivity! I'm alive!!!
Now twittering is like a food craving that I must satisfy. I can't stop thinking about updating until I offer another tweet. Then, ten minutes later, the urge comes again and I can barely restrain myself. Indeed, the only thing that keeps me from giving in completely to my obsession is the fear of annoying my six loyal followers with relentless, inane tweets.
Even as I am typing this, though, my mind is happily dancing toward the moment when I can update Twitter with "I just posted a new entry in my blog!" Blog schmog. I just wanna tweet.
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