Click. Click. Play again.

Click. Clickclicklickclick. Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click.

Time’s Up.

Play again.

Click. Clickclicklickclick. Clickclicklickclick. Click Click Clickclicklickclick Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click.

Time’s Up.

Play again.

Click. Clickclicklickclick. Click Click Click Click Clickclicklickclick lick Click Click Click Click Click Click Click Click. Clickclicklickclick Click Click Click Click.

Time’s Up.

Play again.

Right. So, I know very well that I can get addicted to the simplist, stupidest games. And I normally have the common sense to stay far, far, far away from them.

What on earth possessed me to follow a link and start playing “Bejewelled Blitz” on Facebook is beyond me. But before I knew it, I was sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking away on small brightly coloured gleaming jewels, making special fire jewels, sparkly super jewels, and these fun little lighting generating cubes.

You can compare yourself to your ‘friends’. You can watch your levels go up. You get cool star awards when you get 25k, 50k,75k, and so on points, all kept track of with graphs.  Better yet, each game lasts only a minute. So it’s easy to sneak in one ten thirty WHAT? HOW DID IT GET TO BE 1am?

Now there’s nothing wrong with playing games like this. It’s not like I’m neglecting personal hygiene, or playing while Cameron experiments with the properties of fire, or am playing at work.

But … letting Cameron’s bath drag out super long because I’m playing? Sure, he’s happy in there, but does he really need a 45 minute play bath? Dinner was healthy and hot, but has gotten a little later than it needs to be. “Wha? Huh? Okay jus’ one more minute, no Cameron, stop shaking my arm please, I’m trying to play!”

Ooops.

Hmmmm …  how much have I written here lately?

Oops.

And my sleep is important to me.  I get little enough as it is! And now the game is invading my dreams – Leif and I were working in some underground power plant/mine where we were hunting/mining/taming some mysterious power that sounded just like that cube thingy does when it fires off.  And the beep beep beep that alerts you that time is nearly up (so you frantically search for matches with less success than you do if the sound is turned off) was the alarm that something had gone horribly wrong and we had to run out and the doors were slamming shut and oh the horrors if we were trapped inside! Then there was the one where we were on a big boat and had to move the chairs and tables just so or else something awful would happen, and there was a horrible evil voice over the loudspeaker. And one where Cameron and I would surely die if we didn’t get the heck out of Stanley Park and Leif was there but only had a motorcycle, and just a helmet for himself and for some reason mortal peril or not I debated whether or not to get on the motorbike with Cameron if he didn’t have a helmet (nevermind that a four year old shouldn’t be on one anyway) … hrm. Not sure how that one links in. But most do. And they’re all stressy.

Click.

Click.

Clickclickclick.

Warning! If you remove Bejeweled Blitz you will no longer be able to see blah blah blah…

Click.

You have removed Bejeweled Blitz.

Okay.

(alright, it’s not like I’ve removed it from existence, nor locked myself away, but I know myself. I’ve recognized the problem and would have to actively work to find my way back to playing it, which would send me into fits of stressy guilt. So it’s effective.)

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One response to “Click. Click. Play again.

  1. I love Bejeweled! I used to play it on FB all the time, but then my husband was dumb… er, I mean sweet enough to get me a hand held version of the game, so now I play every night while I’m in bed!

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