It's the busy season. I'm working as fast as I can for as long as I can.

I swear, it's the forgetting to breathe that gets me, tires me out. I don't know it's happening until I finish something and I feel my whole body rise at once for air, one bottomless inhalation that feels like a long slow falling backward. Then the exhaustion washes over me.

I finished some things today and treated myself to a night off. Everything off—I don't know what to do with myself. I try not to use the computer, but you know how you need a computer to do everything now.

I am one of those people who failed to get a new TV, cable, or the digital receiver before the switchover. Now, no TV. But because I get all the TV I want to watch from the Internet, Netflix, or the occasional bender in a hotel, nothing has changed.

A part of me wishes the Internet would get shut off, as I am unable to pull the plug myself.

I love the reports of people in Iran using everything within their means to organize this protest. It makes me think of all the people in the history of the world who have rallied resourcefully against oppression. The tactics of the oppressed by definition fall outside the rules of the ruler—much to the surprise of the establishment. Remember the Iraqi blogs that Americans were so infatuated with in the early days of the invasion? They seem forgotten in the new crush on Twitter.

I dislike the histrionics of bloggers, who tend to overstate the role of technology in the fate of the Iranians or who seem to have seized the event as their own personal Hindenberg disaster. And I dislike the same-old, same-old tone of superiority. For example, from the NY Times yesterday: "An Internet blogging service that did not exist four years ago has the potential to change history in an ancient Islamic country." Translation: first-world technology helps liberate backward heathens. Good one. I understand the desire to be a part of something epochal, to want to be a part of the passion of life-or-death change. We romanticize it, I think, from the monotony of peace and wealth. But these perspectives are narcissistic. Their fight is not ours to own.