I am quite possibly the only person I know on this planet who's not on Facebook. My friends tried to get me to sign up a couple of years ago. No thank you. Nop. Definitely not.
I just felt at the time that if I had something to say, I'd call, email or text.
I don't have the time to tell people what I'm doing every second of the day.
8.51am Changing nappy
9.02am Just tripped on a toy and banged my toe
9.35am Post has arrived
Yes, you know who you are.
Nor do I get these silly games on FB. And the fact you feel obliged to accept these 'friends', which apparently need culling later anyway.
I have stood resolute against FB, not wanting there to be another excuse for wasting time on the laptop, when I could be relaxing with a book. Sorting out family photos. Cleaning the house (whatever next).
But here's the dilemma. Once I've checked my emails in the evening, updated my blog, you'll find me... erm... on my husband's Facebook sending messages to friends of ours, sneaking a peek at what everyone is up to (painting nails, on the train, blah blah) and checking out who else I can find.
Which is fine. Isn't it? Yes?
Except that now it's not just about pesky old school friends I never wanted to hear from again. There are local 'groups' on FB, and council services, and mums get-togethers.
Suddenly me thinks I'm missing out. I'm keen to create a community around us here on the Central Coast and if everyone is posting information and organising stuff on FB, maybe it's time to bite the bullet.
I'll ponder a little longer...
Trouble is hubby has had enough and is about to change his password to stop me complaining about some of the silly posts from his friends. Fair enough.
I'll do something soon. Promise.