- stay caught up with laundry
- probably actually cook instead of sit and watch Frank do it (or maybe not - he eyes me suspiciously and hovers defensively towards the stove every time I even look like I'm thinking about touching a frying pan)
- likely get more sleep, since I wouldn't be unable to sleep because I can't turn my brain off of COMPOSE BLOG POST mode
- exercise parts of my body other than my fingers
- not have to constantly rewind TV shows on the DVR because I get distracted and miss all the action
- clean more often than Super Saturday (which is code for spend hours doing all the chores that I should have done Sunday-Friday )
But without my laptop, I'd also:
- never have met my best friend (friendship est. 2001 via message board)
- never have met my other close, close friend and also former intended mother in 2003
- have never learned about surrogacy or found such a wonderful wealth of information and support on Surrogate Mothers Online (SMO).
- have never matched with any of my four sets of amazing intended parents
- would never have had the honor of getting to say, "Yes, I'm pregnant, but it's not mine. It's a white kid." (then subsequently laugh my royal arse off at the unassuming victim's jaw-dropped shock and confusion)
- probably have gone off the deep end once I started the second year of trying to conceive, had it not been for the support of the infertility message board I stumbled on in 2000.
- never have the chance to cross bridges and expand my horizons by reading the beautiful words of others who have their own stories to tell.
- not have all of you here to cheer me on, make me laugh, and help me not feel like the only one walking around who cringes and gags a little when someone says something like, I get pregnant so easily, that if my lacy pink Vickie's Secrets mingles with his Jockeys in the washer, I get knocked up!
Who needs a clean house, a homecooked non-nuked meal, mountain rain-scented laundry (that is also folded and put away), eight hours of continuous sleep, and a smallish, can't-pinch-an-inch-on-this butt and abs, anyway?
How long can you go without your computer before yo start twitching and foaming at the mouth? I made it about 4 minutes, 7.3 seconds before I started having convulsions.
Seriously, though - what do you value most about your computer and Internet access?
But without my laptop, I'd also:
Who needs a clean house, a homecooked non-nuked meal, mountain rain-scented laundry (that is also folded and put away), eight hours of continuous sleep, and a smallish, can't-pinch-an-inch-on-this butt and abs, anyway?
How long can you go without your computer before yo start twitching and foaming at the mouth? I made it about 4 minutes, 7.3 seconds before I started having convulsions.
Seriously, though - what do you value most about your computer and Internet access?