Day Two Hundred Fifty Five: Cold Sweats as Life Changes

Stripped of my baggage, I can see things as I am.  In a need to move forward on the path I see before me, I decided to eliminate that which wastes either my time or my money. So, in that vein, Facebook took the hit today. I deactivated. I realized that I was spending two hours a day? Two hours a day or more, along with countless obsessive checks throughout the day. Surely that time could be used to actually write what I want, instead of endless quips and comments leading to nowhere and nothing.
Awakening to this realization was shocking to me. I don't want to talk about who I want to be, I just want to be. So I am. I am an artist, a writer and cyclist. I have little time to worry about what an acquaintance had for lunch, or that the cat of a friend of a friend just pooped on the carpet. And reading about the whining of those I barely know is just depressing, depressing that I am reading it, depressing that they feel the need to broadcast it, depressing that time was wasted finding out about it. 
As a networking tool, I see the value. I understand the will to make contact with people met at other points of my life. But true friends will find me. And truth be told, this is likely a vacation. Facebook does not allow the deletion of a profile. All I need to do is log back on and I am back where I left off. I wonder, really, how long I will thwart my addiction.

Sunday, September 12: Sharpie on Paper, 9x12