Blog Stats and Other Satanic Numbers: A Story of Addiction

homo fuge!

We start off pretty normal – a friend or two, a couple of loved ones, a cat/dog and something (or someone) we like to do to pass the time. Those of us who are fortunate enough to get through our teens and twenties without accumulating any distressing addictions breeze through life on a cloud, smelling the roses, skipping through (proverbial) meadows. We’re well-adjusted, fun-loving adults.

Enter numbers.

I’d like to register a complaint. Numbers are ruining my life. And not in the I-want-to-kill-my-math-teacher kind of a way. High-School happened. University followed suit. I pulled through. My math-angst was laid to rest.

Uhh.. Hardly. Take this whole blogging venture, for instance. It started out as a way for me to get back to writing (don’t take a nap, I’m fast forwarding). I had a nice little space outside the shower to find and hone my voice. All was well with the world. And then – how cute! Someone read my post! I touched the life of some kind stranger. My words crossed oceans and mountains only to tickle and divert an unknown other (ok, so the first kind stranger may have been my mother, but you get the drift). And so it went on.. till one unsuspecting day dozens of people were reading me. I was in the zone!

And then I wasn’t. Blog stats started pummeling me with zeros. I was devastated. But why? I hadn’t even cared a month earlier. I was just honing my voice, flexing my writing muscles, spanking my inner moppet (Alert: Buffy quote). And then, through no effort or will of my own, blog stats turned me into a junkie! Me! The clean, addiction free (kinda), righteous Nelly that I am – I was turned into a blog-stats checking lunatic!

Let’s not kid ourselves. It’s not just blog-stats. We are all number junkies and have been for ages, since our cavemen forefathers started collecting mammoth tusks for fun. And today? It might not be animal carcasses, but grades, how much we earn (that F-ing bastard is earning more than me!), how much we weigh (where oddly, less is usually more), how many houses, rooms, shoes, cars, CDs we have. And let’s not blame this on capitalism either. I’m sure our socialist friends count down work/school days to the vacation. Compare err… shoe sizes. Whatever! I’m sick of numbers. I want to be rid of them once and for all.

(Just let me keep my blog stats, ok?)

So, I’m thinking of founding a league for the abolition of numbers. Any takers?
What, only 3?!!

Advertisements