We never really got along, Facebook and I. Sure, my voyeuristic tendencies would enjoy the sampling of other people’s drama, provided they weren’t too melodramatic or annoying about it by dragging negative energies on for weeks. Provided, too, that they weren’t incessant in their commentary on my drama, making too much out of nothing, further annoying me by not adhering to the strict standards I neglected to tell them about. Via “un-friending” and “un-subscribing”, I pruned and shaved down my newsfeed to the barest essentials. On account of that, my feed wasn’t moving very fast to provide me with reading material to satisfy those voyeuristic tendencies.
I was left to sit in my own emptiness for a few days. A few DAYS! Oh the agony. Then was called to pick up my mildly depressed daughter from school. Her teacher thought she was coming down with something. I determined she has an allergy to rules. At just shy of four years old, she is grieving for her lost youth. I would have enjoyed a back and forth with someone genuinely interested in my thoughts on the subject, who harbors the conflicting emotions that I do, or who wishes to learn of my conflicting emotions. Who do I share this with? Who do I lean on in my parental angst?
Child in bed for the night, in an otherwise empty house, I succumbed to a moment of exceptional neediness where I initiated a chat with a friend whose second daughter is about to bestow a second grandchild (true news indeed!), only to launch into a “enough about you lets talk about me” monologue regarding my controversial, if not risky infatuation(s). Through my disappointment to her response I realized my own error, that my behavior was not as I would have chosen it to be had my rational half maintained control. Thus, I have sworn off Facebook for a week. I logged off the mobile app and hid the icon on my phone. I have had to remind myself twice today that this is the new order of things.
As I dropped my daughter off at Pre-K this morning at 7:45, I mused that a half-day program would have early release today at 9:45. Now what was I supposed to do for two hours? At 7:45 in the morning?
A particular itch in my arm reached for my phone. Well, no, I’m not posting my musings to Facebook. I put my phone down to further muse at the immediate gratification of publicizing our immediate thoughts. Are we cheating ourselves by not allowing such insights to mature like a fine wine, to be paired later with the cheeses of humor and rhetoric?
After twiddling my thumbs for two hours, I returned to the school and wondered how stay-at-home moms deal with this. I had taken the day to give my brooding child more time with mommy, but of course she was still going to school for two hours. Her regular days are only for three hours. I couldn’t do this regularly. (Twitch-twitch…there goes that itch again)
I know most of my Facebook “friends” don’t read my blog--even when I post the links in my feed. In part because of that, I know I am more candid here than I am over there. And that I am more candid is perhaps good reason for them not to read my blog. How many of our friends and “friends” do we really want to know us so well?
My Facebook fast is for one week, but may stay as the new order of things. By the time I managed to drop my phone in such a way as to injure my achilles tendon, I had no desire to explain that to anyone.