I wrote a post today for BlogHer admitting that I really can't stand being plugged in all the time -- so I'm not. I know many, many "normal" people who have no problem avoiding social media and email, but not too many people like me -- bloggers, people who work in new media. Am I the only one?

I have a confession to make: I have no problem unplugging. Hello, my name is Rita, I work on the Internet, and I frequently leave the house without my phone. There, I said it.

I started blogging in 2004 and remember vividly sitting next to Liz Gumbinner at the BlogHer Business '07 in New York City watching her use this crazy thing called Twitter on her new-fangled iPhone. I didn't really get immersed in Twitter until 2009 when I joined BlogHer and no longer had to hide my social media use when someone walked by. In fact, I had more of it than ever -- trying to keep up with Twitter, Facebook, internal IM, two e-mail accounts, my blog, everyone else's blog and BlogHer.com was something that took some getting used to. I started having those work dreams about being assigned to catalogue the Internet again, and that's when I knew I had to get a handle on it.

Read the rest on BlogHer.

This week I've been unsubscribing to almost everything that comes into my inbox. A few things I've felt horribly guilty about unscubscribing from -- causes I care about, political updates -- and some I've had to ask myself why the hell I've been deleting this for the past five years instead of just getting off the list. 

I remind myself I know where to find these things if I need them.

I keep waiting for the inbox to die down, if I'll be able to tell I eliminated things or if other things will just grow back to replace them, things from which I can't unsubscribe. People from whom I can't unsubscribe. (Now wouldn't THAT be great?)

I wonder if it will make me feel unimportant or lonely if the inbox isn't flooded. I try to remember the last time this happened. It's not that I am so important, you see, but more that I conduct so much of my life online and get automatically added to new product updates! and great deals! And I've since realized that I don't have any money for great deals, anyway, and my delete finger is sore from all that blah, blah, blah. All I want to do is go read a book, watch a movie, be entertained. I don't want to sort through catalogs or newspapers or coupons or email. I want to sit down and know I will be interested in that which presents itself before me. 

I'm having a day in which everything and nothing is interesting. My concentration lags and my eye keeps going to the window. It's Friday afternoon, and I have a lot to do, and I just don't want to.

I want to hear a story instead.

I think the faster I get through this mound of work, the faster I will get to my story.

Unsubscribe.

Unsubscribe.

Unsubscribe.

My work Outlook has been a little paranoid lately. It's suddenly begun blocking my co-workers, insisting they have malicious intent when they're really just trying to tell me which posts are most popular. I sat it down, tried to reason with it.

"There's nothing wrong with Denise Tanton," I said. "She's a really, really nice person."

My Outlook shook its head and stalked away, muttering something about a Denise it knew in high school.

Then, yesterday morning, I emailed something from my gmail to my Outlook. Something work-related. Something from me.

Outlook gasped and sat up in bed, eyes wild, hair flying -- and blocked it.

"What are you doing?" I shouted, fed up.

"I'm protecting you from yourself," it said, then collapsed.

I had to reboot. It knows not what it does.

Yesterday and Wednesday I was off from work to add a Part II to my novel (fingers crossed, it was a specific request). On Wednesday, even though I forced myself to ignore my work email, I checked my personal email and immediately fell down the rabbit hole of responses and responsibilities and lost almost two hours.

Yesterday, I took a complete and total Internet hiatus. No blogging, no email (!), no Twitter, no Yammer, no Facebook, no LinkedIn. I did text with my sister a little, but I also actually spoke to her on the phone for more than an hour. And last night I called my parents and told them a bunch of things I'd forgotten to tell them in the mad rush of email that is usually my life.

My life is email? Yeah, it kind of is.

At the same time, I'm reading Super Sad True Love Story in fits and bursts, which is a novel about a bunch of people trying to stay young forever who spend their lives completely immersed in little personal data devices that hang around their necks.

A while ago, the little angel asked me if I loved my phone more than her.

The last two days while I've been off, she's gotten off the bus at home instead of after-school care, and we've set up the sprinkler and invited friends over to run through it. The weather has been glorious.

Today I'm back online, back at work, back on email. And I'm determined to not become a Super Sad True Love Story character.

But it's hard, in this world we live in. It's hard.