As I sit at home on a Wednesday evening, watching the “3-hours past Live” American Idol results show – yes I am sucker for reality tv – and resist the urge tweet every comment that pops into my head I realized something. Twitter is my new roommate. I know, I know, it’s sooo sad, but quite possibly true.
Don’t get me wrong. I love living alone. I love the freedom to leave my dirty dishes in the sick till tomorrow morning, kick off my shoes in the middle of the floor, and watch whatever strange tv program at any time I desire, but the one thing lacking when living alone is conversation. I like to talk, so of course there are times when I have comments about tv, or something that happened at work (which I also do at home all alone) and there is no one to talk to except the dog. She doesn’t listen very well and her contribution to the conversation consists of licking her nose, sniffing her butt, or just falling asleep. Gotta love the dog!
In the absence of a live person to bounce my witty comments about reality TV – or just real life – off of I turn to the internet and post all my comments on twitter. Sure I only get a reply to 1 of every 100 tweets, but it gives me the sense that someone is listening to me. Is this what my world has come to? Is it wrong that I use twitter for my weeknight banter, or should I throw in the towel and get a real roommate. I’m opting for the former rather than the latter.