It’s no secret of my love for Twitter. I have made some very good
friends via this social medium and however strange that may seem to people, it’s a comfort for me. Somehow I’m funnier on twitter. I know, hard to believe right?!
I (sometimes) write a blog which is for no one in particular, except maybe James for when he is older. I have several posts in drafts as it is an outlet for my mentalist head more than anything. A digital diary, if you will.
I signed up for Instagram because I LOVE looking at people’s photo’s. I love taking pictures and it is challenging me to take better shots via my phone and my proper camera. Plus baby pictures are making my ovaries explode.
I dabble in Pintrest, but get depressed at all the mason jars I want for the many, many drinks/favours/candle holders I want to make.
Why am I rambling?
Two weeks ago I decided to give up Facebook. I say give it up, because however much you deny it, FB is an addiction of sorts. Much like a cigarette break, you need a hit every few hours. The rush to see if someone has ‘liked’ your status when you wait for the blue and white logo to appear, is addicting. Hence the several checks throughout the day.
So why did I give it all up, go cold turkey?
It was all very, well, samey (what, that’s a word). If friends weren’t pissed off with something, they were making someone else pissed off.
The term ‘FML’ was banded about waaaay too much. I really don’t think getting your feet wet whilst wearing flip flops really constitutes that phrase. Get a towel and dry them off. See, all better. And I really don’t think your life is fucked because you’ve run of milk for your cereal.
The incessant use! Of! Exclamation! Marks!!!!!!!!
If Facebook was a location is would be called Topperville. Someone, somewhere is believes they are better than you.
I hated how I couldn’t really be
myself with the people who actually, physically know me.
I was always questioned on why I was doing Project 366, why was I writing a blog, why do I have an opinion and how dare my opinion be any different from someone else’s.
I hate how no one reads a status properly and it starts a ‘debate’ where the reason for the argument is lost.
It’s this last reason that made me realise that enough is enough. It’s time to break the habit.
And break it I have. The husband has tried a petition to get me to go back on, but from the glimpse I saw the other day, everyone is reading 50 Shades of Shite and the nonsense of it all is still there.
And I’ve never been happier to be away from it.