Life gets in the way. It gets in the way of life, of picking up the remaining fall leaves, of dusting the cobwebs out of the corners, and of doing the laundry. And it gets in the way of posting on Facebook.
But kicking someone when they’re down or nagging them about their absence on Facebook isn’t helpful.
Is anyone else aware of any posting frequency rules that Facebook has implemented? I’m not. Obviously, though, there must be an unwritten rule about how long one can stay silent on this social media site, because I’ve been getting constant reminders from Facebook that I’ve been silent for too long.
What does my silence and absence mean to the Facebook folks? How do they interpret that? Are they afraid that I’m off dilly dallying on some other social media site sharing copious details about my day-to-day activities? If so, that’s quite an assumption. I’m not being given the benefit of the doubt here. Even if I am somewhere else on the web frittering away hours on other social media sites, I don’t recall signing an exclusivity contract with Facebook.
So what if I have 185 new notifications waiting for me on Facebook? Is the world going to stop if I don’t comment on someone’s delectable meal at a local eatery? Will I prevent an asteroid from blasting the earth to smithereens if I don’t click “Like” on someone’s inspirational quote, daily affirmation or cute Boston Terrier photo?
Give me a break, Facebook. It’s not all about you and your schedule of needs. Besides, how can you possibly notice the absence of this one utterly non-influential subscriber? I am NOT the butterfly that flaps its wings clear across the globe, creating significant, noticeable changes on the other side. Ninety-nine percent of the time I’ve got nuthin’. NUTHIN’.
Hey, I completed our local weekly paper’s extremely difficult crossword puzzle the other day! How about that, Facebook? Is that newsworthy enough for you? Oh, yeah, I also added mulch to my vegetable garden. And I made a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Alert the media! Star that post on Facebook!
This ongoing pressure to get a life is getting irritating. Even more irritating and stressful is the demand to share these events and incidents that constitute getting a life. From Pinterest to Twitter to Facebook, everyone seems to want a piece of us. And social media experts think they’re being so very helpful when they offer up their “15 Things to Post or Tweet About.” Well, people, I notice that “posting what you ate for breakfast” isn’t on those lists, yet people far more interesting than I continue to leave those fascinating bits of detritus all over the web.
All of these social media sites demand that we be much more than we are: a sofa-squatting, idle, inconsequential passenger on a train to Dullsville. What’s wrong with Dullsville, anyway? My people in Dullsville are perfectly content. They don’t feel pressured to get a life. Life happens all around us here in Dullsville. I can see large pieces of it passing by my giant living room window. My dogs bark at these pieces to let me know that all is safe in Dullsville, yet so very threatening outside.
Dullsville is a fine place to live. We have running water and indoor plumbing here, too. We might not have that ski trip to Aspen or the overseas vacation in Paris, but we’ve got a nice backyard that needs tending to. We’ve got crossword puzzles to work, muffins to bake, and trips to the thrift shop. It’s fine here, perfectly fine.
I refuse to get a life just to satisfy the Facebook bean counters. I don’t have time to get a life, anyway. I’m busy here, not getting a life. So there.