I can't write a book review without constantly feeling the need to check my e-mail, or reload Facebook in case someone said something funny, or pop into Seanie's office just to say hello.
I can't sink into a big, fat novel the way that I used to. I don't get absorbed into the world of words and disappear from the physical realm. (Perhaps this is a sign that the books I've picked up have been of a lesser quality...and yet, I think this is a legitimate problem with me, not them.
It's noisier here than it was at my parents' house, so I know I haven't been sleeping well and that may be exacerbating the problem.
But is this the effect of social media and the Internet, fragmenting my memory and ability to focus my mind like a laser beam?
Or is this merely one of the signs that I growing older?
Either option is an utterly depressing thought.