My mother is not a complete Luddite, but unlike me, she does not have her computer on during all her waking hours, and so Sunday afternoon after I finished my blog post about my anxiety-induced apocalyptic vision, I called her to read it to her.
As I launched into the actual vision of utter destruction, I burst into tears. When I finished reading the entry, though, she did not immediately rush to comfort me.
"I don't mean to be cold-hearted," she said hesitantly, "but I have to tell you a something that this reminds me of from your childhood."
Okay . . .
"It was August, and you were about twelve, and you said you were going to go out and pick the blueberries. 'But Calin,' I reminded you, 'it takes hours! Won't you be bored?' and you said 'No, Mom! I have a very active fantasy life!' And I thought 'Oh, dear. This is going to turn on her someday. And you see, it really has.'"
Yep, she's right. It REALLY has.