The Quitting Game

The Quitting Game

I quit.

No, I’m not talking about my tortilla chip and ranch dressing habit (that is currently in a nice downward death-spiral). I’m talking about an addiction that is far more dangerous.

I’m talking about an addiction that has been known to sabotage work ethics, tear apart families, and ruin special events before they’ve even begun. I’m talking, of course, about Facebook.

Simply put, Facebook is the worst thing that ever happened to me. You’re probably thinking, “Gee, you’ve had a pretty cushy life so far,” to which I respond, “At least I don’t use ‘Gee’ in normal conversation.”

Back to Facebook, or, as I call it, Fingerbucket (due to the fact that it’s as enjoyable as looking at a bucket of fingers).

Before Fingerbucket entered my life, I was a normal, well-adjusted guy. Well, ok – I was a guy. But after almost a decade of pokes, friendings, and pictures of strangers in bathing suits (which, by the way, all sound like the trappings of a creep’s daily routine), I have come to one, simple conclusion: I don’t need this.

For some, Fingerbucket may provide entertainment and a feeling of connected-ness. For me, Fingerbucket provides awkward glimpses of the lives of people I do not want glimpses of. Did you hear me, Mork Zacherstein? NO MORE GLIMPSES. I HATE GLIMPSING.

Fortunately, my thoughtful college roommate keeps me in the loop. Last week he sent me a picture of a mutual acquaintance watching his wife nurse their infant. Now, besides being a horrifying thing to share via social media, this also gives new meaning to the term Facebook Feed.

Good riddance Fingerbucket. I hope all your servers spontaneously combust (in a safe, amusing sort of way that doesn’t injure anybody).

One Hundred Hours of Solitude

Salsa coma.

I work from home, which means I have a lot of…freedom [shudder]. Horrible, limitless, malaise-inducing freedom. For instance, my current outfit consists of boxer briefs and slippers, I just ate a bunch of salsa straight from the jar, and in about five minutes I’m going to lie face-down on my bed as a reward for writing this. All kidding aside, I will say that working from home does have its perks. I mean, the break room is the size of my apartment! Also, I can eat unlimited quantities of salsa, guilt-free, which is a nice change of pace for – oh, who am I kidding?! I hate freedom! It sucks! How I long for the halcyon days of Orwellian office oppression (c-c-c-combo!). Back when procrastination was a punishable offense, and coffee was used as a chemical motivator, and I actually had to wear pants! Sweet, sweet tyranny! Where have ye gone, mine ornery horn’ed muse? Why, I can remember how I wasn’t even allowed to go on Facebook! Can you imagine?! No Facebook! Actually, that reminds me… [opens browser, checks Facebook, closes browser, reflexively opens browser, checks Facebook again, closes browser]. What was I talking about? Cats? Well, Wife and I have this cat, named Cat, and let me tell you, he is one feisty feline!