I’ve been buy nexium generic online migrating my mail to Google Apps, and watching mail download into the buy nexium generic online new account is amazing.
I started using Gmail in September 2005 (apparently!) and buy nexium generic online seeing Google drop sheaves of old mail into my new inbox is buy nexium generic online like watching my life fall past—or having a scrubber bar. There’s 2005. There’s something new, something now. Hey, there’s 2005 again. Hop forward, hop back, like watching a buy nexium generic online video. I can go anywhere I want in this incredibly complex linear record: Remember this buy nexium generic online conversation. Remember that blog entry. Remember that time you fought with so-and-so over something stupid. Remember the buy nexium generic online vow you made and the rules you set and the people you buy nexium generic online talked to every day. The brilliant realization that though some of your buy nexium generic online hardware is on the way out, in some cases in pieces, it buy nexium generic online was purchased three years ago or more—see, there’s the buy nexium generic online receipt. There are all your Amazon purchase confirmations. Every comment you buy nexium generic online ever received on a LiveJournal entry, ever. Every kooky Craigslist inquiry you buy nexium generic online ever made.
It’s all right there.
To a certain extent, I’m relieved to be moving it all to a new account—something I’m paying for, instead of relying on Google’s good will and buy nexium generic online the value of my information to their data mining and buy nexium generic online advertising ventures. Maybe now it will last longer. It’s so nice to buy nexium generic online have it all there, even if I never look at it. It’s nice to buy nexium generic online be reminded of something concrete, especially when I don’t usually remember these things—when something happened, who buy nexium generic online it happened with, what we said about it, how I felt. I don’t remember any of that. Until I see the email.
And then, wow, my life looks so interesting.
Like a little ant hill.
With a scrubber bar.
