How to give up blogging... and fail

Remember that time I gave up blogging? Well, here are the pathetic results, as printed in the Sunday Tribune magazine this weekend.

Day One
At 11am, I make a final post on my blog UnaRocks (http://unarocks.blogspot.com/) alerting my readers that I will not be blogging or reading blogs for five days. The minute I post it, I regret not checking Blogorrah that morning first. I’m resigned to utilising my MySpace and Bebo accounts for contact with the online world. This is kind of cheating, but by not using the blog facilities on them, I reckon I can get away with it.

11.54
Crap, just looked up a blog by mistake by clicking on a link to a new music documentary. Mistake though, not my fault.

12.31
Open up favourites on internet explorer menu and curser magically goes straight to TMZ.com, one of my favourite gossip blogs. Wonder that maybe since it’s a dotcom I could get away with looking at in. Don’t. Instead, go to Toner’s on Baggot St for toastie . Had to get away from computer.

2.03
Break resolution for work reasons (I promise). Have to look up blogs belonging to Irish politicians for an interview with News at One about online media being used in the coming election. Feel slightly dirty.

2.32
A couple of emails are coming in from people wondering why I am not blogging. I tell them it’s in the line of duty. Feel noble.

15.08
Break the ban again to look at the Elevator, a new Irish blog. Once again, it’s in the name of research for my Life Online slot on Phantom FM. Feel self-righteous and defensive, OK?

4.14
Really want to check Blogorrah. Decide not to and instead email the editor Derek O’Connor. Makes me feel like I’m looking at it without looking at it. Wonder if there’s a patch for such an addiction.

4.33
Crap. Accidently break ban again by looking up stories on Agenda Inc, a live feed blog. Oopsie.

Day 2
Wake up thinking about not being able to blog and decide that people really don’t need to know how I enjoyed the sushi at the previous evening’s launch of a new Yamamouri restaurant. Still feel cut off from rest of world. Friends begin taking bets on how long I’ll last.

1.30
Break ban again (for professional reasons) to look up Green Party Ciaran Cuffe’s blog for a segment on News Talk. Stare longingly at a link to Perez Hilton’s blog. Don’t click.

2.35
Catch Claire O’Mahony reading a trashy magazine in reception. Berate her for breaking her ban. Feel nicely high and mighty.

3.12
Claire suggests I read trashy magazines and she reads blogs and we report back to each other. I say no. Feel guilty but strong.

5.46
Invisible force guides my hand to look up my blog subconsciously while I’m on the phone. Scream “oh shit” when I do it. People in the office look at me quizzically. Complete subconscious mistake. Am not to blame.

Day 3
11.29
I finally break and check my blog for comments. I tell Fin the magazine editor that I’ve broken the ban on purpose. I don’t care anymore. Feel awful and weak. Close the Internet browser. Open a new window and check blog again. Insult someone who has left a derogatory comment. Hover over links to other blogs. Instead go to Bebo. Close shave.

12.35
Check my friend Lili’s blog (http://misslili.blogspot.com/). Have to though because she went to visit her Mum in Germany yesterday and I would be an uncaring friend not to take an interest in her life. Quickly realise she hadn’t update it since Tuesday. What a waste of a ban violation.

1.01
Break ban again by looking at new Irish blog The Elevator. Once again though, it’s for professional reasons. Have to get my Web Woman hat on for RTE Two’s TTV.

1.17
Break blog ban again by looking at Rick O’Shea from 2fm’s blog. Actually don’t care anymore. Am lost cause. Tell Rick (who is trying to convince people to run the Mini Marathon) that I signed up last year and then didn’t do it. Realise willpower is lacking in many areas of life.

Day 4
1.10
Cheat ban by going to spa in Cavan. The spa has no internet access that I can find. Don’t care. Body is my temple. Go to amethyst steam grotto.

5.05
Want to check my blog. Go to reception to ask if they have internet. There’s a queue, so I leave. Go to infinity pool. Decide body is my temple (again) and internet interferes. Must empty all blogs, I mean thoughts.

Day 5
2.47
Still in spa. Luckily it’s Sunday so my blogging yearning is distracted by a mound of Sunday papers. Realise that I am a pathetic internet addict and should cop myself on. Drink Lucozade solemnly. Then nice giant glass of white wine. Feel better.

c. The Trib