So very busy. Programs to write, files to move, words to write, books to read, lists to make, emails to send, calls to make. Never mind the clothes to wash, groceries to buy, food to eat, sleep to have, and essential exercise to do.

Even when I’m not “working” (ie, doing things that directly contribute towards either college papers or some paid employment) I have to be “doing.” And yet I never seem to have anything real. It’s an unlikely prospect that the Internet will break today, but lets say it will, just after lunch. And it drags your computer down with it, out of pure malice. What will you have to show for your time? What can you point at and say (whether in the cute kid TV credits voice or not) “I made this”?

Looking at my last five years, there’s not a lot to show in the analogue world. I have a stack of photos, valuable for either artistic value or, far more treasured, for capturing Kodak moments. But the top of that stack of 7x5s peaks at January; my memories since are purely digital. I have some life drawings I did a year or two back, results of the most satisfying days I had at the time. I made hard copies of some of my college papers, but not all. I have one or two sketches, from times I felt guilty about not drawing any more. And… no, that’s it.

We’re all digital now, this is our world, so it shouldn’t make me uncomfortable should it? The fact I spend all day, every day, pushing bits around, reaching more people further afield should be a Good Thing. But it makes me uneasy. Not that this will stop me.