You're Addicted to Squidoo When...?

It started out innocently enough. I began to think and talk about Squidoo at parties now and then to loosen up. Inevitably though, one lens led to another, and soon I was more than just social Squidoo-ing.

I began to Squidoo alone - "to relax," I told myself - but I knew it wasn't true. Squidoo became more and more important to me, and finally I was Squidoo-ing all the time.

I began to Squidoo on the job. I knew that Squidoo-ing and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself.

I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Advanced HTML for Squidoo and Squid-Stats. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

Things weren't going so great at home either. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my husband about the meaning of Squidoo. He spent that night at his mother's.

I soon had a reputation as a heavy Squidoo-er. One day the boss called me in. He said, "Bonnie, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your Squidoo-ing has become a real problem. If you don't stop Squidoo-ing on the job, you'll have to find other employment." This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey, "I confessed, "I've been Squidoo-ing..."

"I know you've been Squidoo-ing," he said, "and I want a divorce!"

"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."

"It is serious," he said, lower lip all aquiver. "You Squidoo as much as Hub Pagers, and Hub Pagers don't make any money, so if you keep on Squidoo-ing we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, and he began to sulk. I'd had enough. "I'm going to look at my dashboard," I snarled as I stomped out the room.

I headed for the computer, in the mood for some SquidU. I rushed into our home office and frantically pulled up the chair to the computer screen...no ISP connection. My internet was down.

As I sank to the carpet clawing at the unfeeling computer desk, whimpering for My Favourite CSS Tricks for Lenses, I turned on the radio for some soothing music and a commercial caught my attention. "Friend, is heavy Squidoo-ing ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Squidoo-er's Anonymous poster.

Which is why I am what I am today: a former recovering Squidoo-er. I used to never miss an SA meeting. At each meeting we would share experiences about how we avoided Squidoo-ing since the last meeting...but it didn't work. I fell off the Squidoo wagon.

Life just seemed...harder, somehow, as soon as I stopped Squidoo-ing.

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