I'm thinking of ditching my real life avatar and moving online permanently. Who needs a body anyway? I bet online legs never need to get shaved.
My real life this morning started out in the Siberian wasteland that is our bathroom. When I'd finally thawed myself off the toilet, I came downstairs to Marie bringing me her "little green snot" (huge bogey) on the top of her index finger, and Jack sneezing all over our food every five minutes going "Mama, I sneezed", expecting a tissue on a golden platter or something. The box was less than a foot from his dripping infectious nose. This was followed by a half hour hunt for Marie's "other boot" through the black hole of despair where the children's clothes go to live when they're worn, but not dirty enough to go in the wash - only to find said boot later in a different part of the room entirely.
The rest of the day I'm planning to spend on the rescuscitation of this house in preparation for the babysitter coming tonight, with a toddler who is going to "help". I don't know what possessed me to get a local babysitter, and a former pupil of mine for good measure. I care too much about the state of my house when she comes. It doesn't have to sparkle, but I try to avoid vermin running around and too many dirty nappies in unexpected places. I should really get a foreigner instead. Preferably illegal. Far less likely to get the principal of the school where I want to work again in the future to hear of that six day old spaghetti still sitting in its pot in the kitchen. Maybe I could adopt a little Albanian family and get a cleaner and a handyman in the bargain.
Now my online life? Completely different kettle of electronic fish. My readership has positively exploded in the last couple of days (more than fifty visitors - hello there!) which is making my online persona very very happy. You sent me many comments, all of which made me smile, and none of which mentioned a little green snot. I've found some lovely new online friends - some of them even send me gay porn and frankly who can ask for more in a new online friend? Also, I am the Twitter friend of many many celebrities. Actually, I only follow them so far, but surely it's only a matter of time before they all follow me back.
Maybe when I move online, I should get some electronic kids and an electronic husband. We could have online bogeys and online sex (maybe not). Maybe I'll put some digital rice krispies on the digital floor of my digital house, for old time's sake. But no more ironing, no more cleaning, no more stepping in raisins that were left on the floor. Online nappies? Delete.
I don't know why, but writing all that just gave me an uncontrollable urge to go and cuddle my real-life daughter, bogeys and all. So, okay, maybe I won't move completely online. Yet. But real life? You have been warned.