It’s been nearly two full months since I stopped checking Facebook. It’s also been about that long that my brog’s been down, keeping me anxious and feeling voiceless when it comes to routine and a simple enjoyment, but that’s a different story.
I’ve learned that Facebook notifications caps at 99, based on the periodic emails I get letting me know that I’ve got 99 notifications since the last time I’ve been on Facebook, and the number is no longer climbing.
In that time, I’ve more or less lost touch with people, as I don’t know what exciting or mundane things that are going on in the lives of the 140+ internet personas that Facebook deems as friends. Birthdays have come and gone, and the odd random “so-and-so has posted” emails keep me in the loop that people are in fact gabbing away.
There are a few group conversations going on that I’m aware are happening because Facebook notifies me that they’re happening over email, but out of not wanting to break my chain, not because I’m (entirely) antisocial, I’m blind to them. I haven’t seen any photos or any posts that have me tagged, because I’m a hipster and obtuse.
The thing is, I’ve been mulling over in my head when it is that I want to come back. I’m enjoying the freedom of ambivalence, and the time I’m not wasting both literally and the time spent thinking about the things people post, because I’m not checking Facebook repeatedly. I’ve read lots of books, watched some television and movies, did a lot of writing for a brog that I have no idea when will ever be back up and been on two trips so far. I’m not saying that none of those things would’ve have happened if I’d still been engaged on Facebook, but I did have the luxury of being fairly clear-minded and undistracted by potential distractions.