Some Words That Apply

I realize that the Internet has invaded our privacy in an entirely new way. I also realize that I am guilty of furthering this particular evil. There have been those punchy late nights when sleep eludes and I end up slack-jawed in front of the computer. Why aren't I reading? Anything but this. Half-asleep. Ass glued to a chair. Self-loathing kicked into serious high revved-up gear. Grotesque.


Schadenfreude: Pretty much the basest of human emotions. The pleasure one takes in another's misfortune. I wonder why there is not a better word for the loathing for self that one feels post-shadenfreude.

I googled my former boss -- The Only Person On The Planet I Hate. But see, that is not exactly true anymore. I like to say I hate her, but I don't. I cannot muster up the flint to even feel anything for her. So when I found out (through the Internet) that some hardships had happened to her, I guess I skipped right over shadenfreude and dove directly into guilt. Guilt for ...I guess having ever hated her.

Is there a word for being an adult who should know better but still making the same juvenile mistakes over and over? I think it's "stupid."

Here's one I love: Jejune. Also: Puerile

I also found out that a friend I had known very well had recently divorced. Self-loathing again, when I realized how far out of touch she and I are that I don't already know about this. Also, weighted sadness when I recall that we got married three months apart, and in the same church, as members of the same parish.

The Internet makes me sick. This was what I was doing instead of sleeping? Instead of reading? Instead of sticking myself with pins?

So I did something useful and searched out some 10Ks to plot for my future. The marathon has not treated me kindly lately, so I may as well take on the distance I find the toughest. Can't go balls-out like the 5K. Can't pace yourself nice and slow and enjoy the scenery like the marathon. The 10K stumps me.

No more late-night Internet for me. Just in case, I have Elvis and Ann-Margaret, courtesy of my favorite enabler, Netflix, in abeyance. That's another good one: Abeyance.