Internet tabs, like gases, expand to fill their container. Close them all and feel the weight of unread content lift
When I was a kid, The World’s Strongest Man was televised each year during the fallow period between Christmas Day and New Year. The thing I remember most was the sheer release on the faces of men built like tree trunks when they stopped pulling a train, say, or rearranging Atlas Stones that had made ribbons of their forearms.
That’s the relief I feel when clearing all the tabs in my internet browser. Clicking the crosses like a long line of kisses finally indulged. There are many reasons why one has tabs open in double figures. In my defence, they are often related to work or research. The sense of lightness that comes over me when closing them is down to a task completed. It is a bit like setting one’s pen down at the end of an exam; the way the air feels that bit fresher coming out of the hall than going in.