The need to share is a strange phenomenon. It's a double-edged sword, fraught with over-sharing. I thought I might mention on Facebook that a silly pop song by a much maligned singer helped me get through my MRI. When I started feeling anxious about the noisy machine tearing me apart, the breezy, no-worries lyrics changed my focus and lightened my mood. I figured, give credit where credit is due even if it means publicly admitting to appreciating a song I will get teased about. A part of me thought maybe the singer's social media troll might tell her that her peppy, little song helped someone. Then I thought that if I mention getting an MRI it sounds serious and I'd have to go on to explain my hip issues. This led me to thinking about a particular Facebook friend who enigmatically shares so that others will ask what's wrong. Then they pour out virtual sympathy. I don't want to be the instigator of that. So after all this over-thinking, I haven't posted anything on Facebook, but I have created a blog entry. It still seems silly to have wasted all this mental toing and froing on a Sunday afternoon status update. I'm going to post this blog, then not think about it again.
What did we do before Facebook?
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