I’m fading away. The torrent of email have slowed to a trickle of about five a day, none of which are personally addressed to me. Sparkfun Electronics announces a one-day sale. LinkedIn tells me that I have been in 25 search results this week. The other steve.dudek has enrolled in home-decor website from which I promptly unsubscribe.
Likewise, the bing of frequent text messages silences. Occasionally, Ruben sends a link to a New York Times article or Spinach tells me what he had for dinner. I don’t have many people to talk to, but I still shudder at ending a sentence with a preposition.
I’m fading away from social relevance. I don’t have a job so that strips away work email. I’m not part of a team, collective, or project so there’s nothing I need to help plan.
Yet I’m okay with my irrelevance. I have my Snowflake project, personal writing, and a time to reflect on the state of my bedroom ceiling from the sanctity of my bed. Little is asked of me, and I ask little of the world.
I understand now why my Dad is obsessed with the stock market, Stephanie’s Dad is obsessed with the weather, or my brothers follow sports. These message boards show life out there in exciting, varying numbers. Something is happening! So I check my stocks four times each day, even on the weekend, as something may have happened that I missed. I even page through espn.com to follow the Red Sox. Am I unwell?
I check email again. No new messages. I’m both sad from loneliness and grateful that nothing has been asked from me. I’m slowly fading away. We all are.