Occasionally, my mind gets trapped in a vortex of cyber insanity contemplating how much of my life occurs out there in cyperspace. I sit at my keyboard and hit keys and little letters appear on the screen. In e-mails, those letters can be a bridge between family and friends, some of whom are thousands of miles away. The little blips of electricity venture out and, somehow, control where I go, how my money is spent and, occasionally, with whom, where and when I eat.
I've reconnected and stayed connected with people I haven't seen or, in some cases, thought about in years. Without my cyber connectivity, I would never pick up a phone to try to coordinate dinner with the several groups of friends, co-workers and relatives that I try to get all in one place one night a month for dinner or one day a week for lunch so that we can stay connected in a non-cyber way.
I've recently gone 99.9% currency free when it comes to my money matters. Every other week someone hands me a piece of paper (if I could get direct deposit, I wouldn't even have that physical connection to my filthy lucre), I drive it to my bank, they give me another piece of paper, I go home and sit at this machine and type in some of those same little electronic blips that I type into friendly e-mails and, voila, my water keeps pouring and my electricity keeps flowing.
Since they put those little debit card boxes at the window, I don't even touch money at Sonic or Jack in the Box anymore. I buy most of my movies, books and music online, I pay for my gas at the pump and for my groceries in the self-serve line and, sometimes, it all makes me a little cyberly insane if I stop and think about it too much.
Don't even get me started on how the job of a legal secretary has changed over the last twenty years because of e-mail, as well as, easily, the most mind-blowing, work place changing cyber invention of the 20th century: the fax machine.
Electricity. Electromagnetic fields. Gravity. Mind. Vortex. Blown.