So, an Etsy friend of mine (you know who you are, yes, I mean YOU) has invited me to join Twitter so she can track my daily activities. I am seven different kinds of confused by the whole thing.
First of all, my day job, damn them, keeps me from getting directly to Twitter, so I’d have to post by sending messages to my husband via e-mail so he could post. (Don’t laugh, that’s how we handle the blog.) We’re operating a very short step above carrier pigeons, here.
Secondly, I am not all that interesting, and I spend oodles of time doing the same things, day in and day out. I have a long train ride to a desk job and a long train ride home, so my schedule looks like this:
7:00 a.m. – getting on the train
7:30 a.m. – on the train
8:00 a.m. – still on the train
8:30 a.m. – STILL on the train
8:35 a.m. – on the bus
9:00 a.m. – sitting at my desk
9:30 a.m. – still sitting at my desk
10:00 a.m. – would you be surprised to hear that I’m still at my desk?
10:30 a.m. – pouring a cup of coffee
11:00 a.m. – back at my desk
I was going to type out the whole thing, but it makes me painfully bored. Let’s just say that there are another six hours at the desk, and more time on the train. If I had to keep admitting, repeatedly and publicly, that my life was that boring, I’d hang myself.
Thirdly, during a recent evening at home, post-train, while I was running around making soap, Jesse was watching Cool Hand Luke. So thinking of Twitter makes me flash back to the chain gang scenes, like this:
7:00 a.m. – getting on the train here, Boss
7:30 a.m. – riding on the train here, Boss
8:00 a.m. – still on the train here, Boss
Yeah, it actually translates pretty well. Depressing, right? I might not Twitter just yet, because I’m too busy at the moment to make up a whole list of glamorous stuff I’m not really doing. (8:30 – board private jet bound for Monaco.)
Twitter: Admitting to the entire world that your life is like prison time!
"Post this please, boss."
"Posted the post, Boss."
"Hey, Who's in charge here?"
"I don't know, boss."