Pavlov's Yorkie

I spend a lot of my day on my laptop. I write this blog. I write for Facebook. I write emails. I write school crap. And, while I write, typically from my couch, this is where my Yorkie, Kota, sleeps - on the cushions of the couch, head pointing towards the window so he can watch for cats, or head down so he can sleep.

I write a lot. I'm a writer, though, so I guess it's not that weird. And, clearly, it means that I type a lot. My fingers do the talking, walking, expressing. I've often wondered what my words per minute pace is.. I bet it's good. Anyway, I digress. (As usual... my brain may my rely on my fingers for correspondence, but it doesn't stop my brain from working as fast as my fingers can type.)

I also spend a lot of time on my cellphone. I text. I call. I receive texts. I receive Facebook notification texts. (Which might have been the worst thing I ever did to myself, and I don't have any clue how to undo it.) And, my mother calls at least twice a day, my friends call at least three or four times... my phone, as they say, is always "blowin' up."

I call. I text. Mouth & fingers do the talking. Blah blah blah, yak yak yak, yada yada yada.

I'm attached. Not necessarily attached to the actual technologies, but I'm... accessible. Overly accessible, I think. I have three emails, one Facebook, Google chat, Facebook chat, two blogs, one website, two phone numbers, one laptop, one iTouch; I'm mobile, stationary, mobile... it's too much.

I had a techie freak out on Monday - I wanted to just leave it all very far away from me. And, for a brief time, I did. And, it felt good.

So, anyway... this morning, I sat on the couch and began to write a post - not this one, actually - and in the midst of it, my phone vibrated; a text message had arrived. I flipped the phone open, typed a response, and closed the phone. My dog, who was sleeping peacefully nearby, raised his head - on alert. After studying me for a moment or two, he put his head back down. I opened and closed the phone again. He had the same reaction. Then I closed the laptop. This time he not only raised his head, but he stood up. His face said it all: Where are you going? You shut your things... I understand this to mean that you're going somewhere.

Fuck.

My dog responds to the click-closure of my technological devices that I'm constantly attached to.

In dog, the departure from these devices means I'm on the move. He has the same reaction to my putting on shoes and a coat as he does my closing my laptop or cellphone. This means that if I am home, and just sitting around comfortably, I am always on something, and when I prepare to leave, I leave the something behind. He understands this. Clearly, he's more attune to my habits than I am.

I'm techobsessed. I want to unplug.