Uneasy quiet was broken by the sound of a metal folding chair scooting across the floor. Tina was uncomfortable and body-conscious as the thin wooden-slat floor popped and creaked under her steps. After clearing her throat she raised her head and declared, “My name is Tina. I am a content hoarder.”
An open room full of strangers responded, “Hello Tina!”
With more confidence she continued, “I have been content-hoarding sober for 72 hours. I have not copied a link or saved a screenshot.” The room erupted with a round of golf clapping in support.
“To avoid withdrawal symptoms I am posting my cropped screenshots.”
A murmur flows through the observers. “This content may or may not help any of you, but it is a step I feel I must take.” A voice from the back yells, “about time you do something with that stuff!”
“Yes, I have a sickness. With support from all of you fellow content hoarders I feel I can stop. Or, at the least, slack off.” Another wave of light laughter fills the humid and cramped room.
“I have such varied interests and they each cause me to stumble upon links that are packed with valuable information. I can’t read and consume all of it in one sitting, I must save it.”
Tina is pacing and appears agitated, “I intend to only watch a free webinar, at first, I know I can absorb what is offered there.” Tina wringed her hands and then twisted wispy hair strands around her index finger, “then they post a link or an infographic and in an instant I relapse. I push the PrtScr button and I accumulate one more screenshot. Who am I hurting? It only takes up computer space.”
“Yes, I did use every single byte on my iPad.”
“Yes! I did start emailing myself links!”
“Yes! Yes, I did join Canva and started creating my own content!”
“Good grief. I have a disease. I realize this and I am committing myself to stop content hoarding. In my efforts I pledge…
I will use the public library resources ( Corinth Public Library ) more than usual.
I will unsubscribe to the least effective newsletters and taper myself off.”
A standing ovation and tears are seen…only in the imagination of Tina’s head. I’m certain that is what my husband feels like doing when I cut back on the screenshots and link saving.
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