Lessons from the Sacrifice (?)

  1. I really don’t care very much about Facebook, which is probably not something that makes my mother very happy.  I pretty much didn’t miss it.  I used the hell out of Facebook Messenger, but Facebook itself?  Nope.  I expect that my Facebook traffic will become even more broadcast-heavy and even less about interaction.  I browsed the timeline tonight but got very board.  Facebook is something that I would’ve loved to have had in college, but I’m just not there anymore.  [I mean, I’m in college, you get it, shut up, no you shut up.]
  2. I missed Twitter more as time went by, purely because you can usually just wade into the river and see how things are going on.  I used to sit on the river and watch it go by me, but I feel like that will happen less often now that I know that I can do it and not feel guilty about it.  It was a couple of hours today before my thought was, “What’s on Twitter right now?”  I’ve been on it a bit today, but I also read for class for three hours.
  3. I did miss my friends, but I fought that with a simple email: “Tell me a small story from your life in the last couple of days.”  That kept the focus narrow and light.  I could find out about how my friends’ kids were doing with their spelling homework without having to feel like Big Huge Things Are Being Communicated.  I didn’t do enough of it.
  4. I don’t miss the drama.
  5. I don’t miss being a cause or treble of the drama.  Well, I didn’t miss it, and then I stepped right in it when I got back.  Did I learn anything?  Hmm.
  6. I like email.  I knew that, but I like email a lot.
  7. I can get a lot done when I’m not dinking around on social media.
  8. RescueTime is awesome.
  9. I’m really ready for a break from school.
  10. Lastly, I was really aware of the fact that a lot of what I wanted to share was negative.  I took to doing some private journaling, and there’s a solid week (or more) of me just being really, really angry.  Now, I know exactly why I was angry and what my part in that anger was, but I think that the desire to spew forth the anger is a desire for someone else to make it right, as if that were even really possible.  I’m not going to be zero-anger, but I am going to shoot for less-angry.

I make no promises about that last one being true in these last two weeks of the semester.  No sleep ’til May Day.