Growing up, I was too dang poor to play the popularity game. Because wearing designer jeans and Izod sweaters was a “must” to be a part of the “in” group, I was obviously “out.” But that didn’t bother me… well, maybe not too much…
So why is it, that decades later, when it comes to social media, am I so desperate to be liked or pinned or shared or followed? Especially that being “shared” or “followed” bit…you know, there’s something a little wrong with that.
Seriously, why would any self-respecting, middle-aged woman even care about the number of Instagram likes, Pinterest shares, YouTube subscribers, LinkedIn connections, Facebook likes/friends, Twitter likes/retweets, or WordPress likes/followers she has? And yet, everytime those numbers tick up, I channel my inner Sally Field:
What. Is. Wrong. With. Me? When did I regress into an insecure pubescent desperate for affirmation? When did I become Jan Brady, who wa always stuck in the shadow of Marcia, Marcia, Marcia:
And why, if I need to go back in time, can’t I at least get my teenage body and energy level back too? IT’S JUST NOT FAIR!
Ah crap, now I am starting to sound like a teen too! Seriously, somebody smack me… This is just plain pitiful. I really need to get a like.. I mean a LIFE…
Rants, Rambles, Revelations, Remembrances 