At first I had it under control. Then slowly, it took over my life. Whenever I heard something on the news, I'd need to discuss it with others who cared as much as I did.

And now when I talk about Blue, and Cloud, and Muf, and Cheezie, and BBD and Just, my family understands. They've had to adapt.

On nights when sleep eludes me, I pillow prop in bed and chat through clicking keys with other insomniacs. I'm not interested in supporting opinions. I seek out those who don't share my political point of view but who can discuss their own intelligently.

One of my favorite chatters says he is 80. He is crusty, and his political views are diametrically opposed to mine. I look forward to hearing his take on an event or policy. He's a wordsmith. I find his "from a bygone era English teacher" grammatical style enchanting.

Of course there are also the bad days. The days the "trolls" invade. These are the chatters who can only express their divergent views in expletives and insults.

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