One of the great things about this blog is that I can confess secrets and get things off my chest. In the past I have openly admitted to have certain addictions. Whether it’s books or mindless and pointless games.
Well once again it seems my pathetic will power has fallen prey to yet another game. I might as well get this out there… my name is Becky and I am addicted to Farmville on Facebook.
Are you a farmer? Do you don your overalls and plow that land?
It’s a very simple and darn cute game. You plant seeds and then harvest them when they are grown. From there you get money which can lead to bigger farms, more animals, huge houses… the sky’s the limit! You also play with others who become your “neighbors.” Two of my best neighbors are loved ones. (Sorry Mom and Matt but if I’m going down, you’re coming with me!)
Each seed you plant has a certain time before you harvest. If you wait too long, they wither. THE HORROR! Earlier this month when Matt was on the cruise he knew he wouldn’t have much, if any, internet access. Being the loving girlfriend I am, I asked in all seriousness, “Honey, do you want me to farm for you?” He replied, in all seriousness, “Sure. That would be great.” So with that conversation and an exchange of passwords (talk about TRUST!) I began my week away from my beloved; farming for him.
I didn’t think much of this co-dependence until Shelly and I were emailing during the week Matt was gone.
Me: I got an email from Matt this morning! He hasn’t fallen overboard!
Shelly: YAY! How the heck is he playing Farmville or whatever on that boat?
Me: That would be his girlfriend farming for him. And playing Petville for him
Shelly: LMAO. You’re kidding me?!?
That was the moment it hit me. Is this not normal? Has this addiction gone too far? Is this like when an alcoholic puts brandy in their morning coffee thinking that it’s OK until someone gives them that concerned furrowed brow?
A wave of embarrassment flooded over me. An intense feeling of massive dork-dom. I knew something had to change. Something drastic. And so I gave myself a talking to and a hard look in the mirror and I changed. For the better.
Oh, I still farmed for Matt with much pride at his glorious farm. I just stopped publishing anything that had to do with Farmville and therefore hiding all the evidence. You see, you can take the perception of the addict away but you can’t take the Farm girl off the Farm.
By the way, if any of you are on Facebook and farm, BE MY NEIGHBOR! I only need 1 more neighbor to get the blue ribbon!
