To Sleep, Perchance to Stream

*stands up* *straightens dress* *clears throat* *smiles, awkwardly*

Good Morning. My name is Fee Plumley and I am a technoevangelist. I have used this ‘careerchoice’ as an excuse, a cover to conceal my addiction, for nearly seventeen years now. It’s time that I was honest with everyone – and myself – and admit that… I Have A Problem.

I go online via whatever internet-enabled device is closest to hand at that moment. I’m not fussy; I’ll even use an iPhone if my Android isn’t nearby.

I rarely sleep, the mobile screen glaring against my eyes in the dark as I curl up in bed pretending to rest. On a good night I may steal an hour or two of erratic REM cycle, infused with vivid and complex dreams that reflect the madness of my soul.

On waking, the first thing I grab is my phone. Not to call for help, I rarely use the telephone for its original purpose. No, my dependency cycle starts with email (because it takes longer to download), then twitter, then facebook (my profile and my page), then back to email (which by then is ready forme). More recently I have added Instagram to this list – it posts to five platforms now, you know!

At that point any normal person would sensibly put down the device and proceed with their morning ablutions (assuming coffee and a wee hadn’t already started their day). My morning ritualsees me simply, and without pause, to return to the start of the cycle. Perhaps another tweet has come in. Perhaps there is a follow-up to the comment I just posted on facebook. Oh and I really should reply to the email I received at 4am when I was too embarrassed to admit I was still awake.

Awake and online. Because no one must know, no one can ever know that it is this bad. I would be Letting The Internet Down. The Internet relies on me to spread the word of geek, to share my life with the world at all times. It is my destiny. I must obey its demands, fulfil its hunger for stories, searches, memes, viral explosions of political scandal and… *holds head in shame* … lolcats.

This morning I awoke from another insomniac dream. This time I had shaved my head. Grade 0. They were rechargeable clippers & the battery kept running out. I was wandering round with long/short/dark/coloured bits for a while. I woke up wondering what it meant, if it was true… and, as my hand reached up to my multicoloured locks, I realised once and for all… that this has to stop.

It was at that moment that I remembered the sleep residency. Can you help me?  *sits* *grabs phone* …

… *sends*

Fee Plumley

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