Getoutofmyfacebook

You’ll notice a button rather conspicuous by its absence on my blog. No, I’m not on Facebook, nor do I plan to join it … or Twitter … or Instagram.

I just don’t see the point. Sure, I have this blog, and another for my family, but that’s it, and it’s hard enough making time for that (which is why my posting is so sporadic). Besides which, I often have to battle Luke to post since that’s usually when he decides I must hold him NOW … when an 18-pound cat with claws sets his mind on something, it’s inevitable.

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I don’t mind living offline; in fact, I prefer it, and I refused to get Internet at home until a job shift made it a bit necessary. Yes, the Internet lets me work from home when necessary, and makes it possible to find and order those things I can’t find here anymore (c’mon, people … give me back my chocolate chip Miss Meringues!).

But I also know how much time I can end up wasting on it when I really should be doing other things, like laundry or rubbing Luke’s belly or going out on a photo hike, something I haven’t done much in the last couple of years of dealing with Mom’s cancer and my IBS diagnosis (it’s really fun if I’m visiting and having a flare at the same time she’s having a bad day … we end up racing, very carefully, to get to the one bathroom).

Facebook logo

Facebook logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So no, no Facebook for me, and you can stop trying to convince me of its usefulness. (And how in the world am I getting Facebook friend requests on my email??? If we’re friends in real life, is it really necessary to proclaim that on the Internet? Seems like overcompensation …)

facebook engancha

I’m going to stick with my antisocial media … as soon as Luke gets off my notebook and gives me back my pen.

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