I’ve been on Twitter eight years. Although it seemed to make some sort of sense when I created the account in March 2012 – connect with other writers, grow a market, watch cute cat videos – looking back, I voluntarily dropped myself into one of the biggest time wasters on the planet.
People spend an average of 2 hours, 44 minutes daily on social media. And by “people,” I mean 3.8 billion (with a B) otherwise intelligent humans across the globe. That’s nearly half the world’s population.
Two hours and 44 minutes? People fishing for recreation can catch and fillet dinner in less time than that.
And what do people usually share on social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Grahamcrackergram? Things about their lives we really didn’t need to know.
I’ve tweeted 5,831 times in those eight years and if sharing my life with people I’ll never meet doesn’t make sense, I’m in the right place.
Here’s a look into my life through tweets:
• When my wife and I were getting ready to go shopping, our 5-year-old asked, “Would you get ice cream when you go to market?” I’m firmly convinced our daughter is a 56-year-old British woman.
• The dollar is the only U.S. bill that’s gone largely unchanged since 1935. I believe this is because the government knows I’ll time travel one day and wants me to have cash handy. The U.S. Treasury Department has my back.
• Cereal is nothing more than breakfast soup.
• I’ve spent the morning avoiding lava on the floor. Being a parent is dangerous.
• First thing the 5-year-old said when she woke: “Why do they always put chocolate on cakes?” Priorities, people.
• Home alone with the preschooler.
Her: What do you want to do today?
Me: You pick. What do you want to do?
Her: I want to hold my butt all day.
• I spelled “nefarious” right the first time. I consider that my win of the day. I’m going back to bed.
• Our 5-year-old asked me to cut her PB&J into a trapezoid. I’m already outmatched.
• While driving to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, my wife says to our 13-year-old looking for Christmas music on her phone: “Play ‘I wanna kill Santa Claus’.” Then she turns to me. “How am I a parent? I’m really bad at this.”
• How many miles do you think the Mystery Machine has on it? I’m concerned about its Kelley Blue Book value.
• The preschooler built a house of magnet blocks for some of her figures, like Big Bird, Homer Simpson and the baby Jesus from a Nativity. I wonder what their conversations are like.
• For some reason my wife sang “Don’t stop believin’” in the car today (not the song, just those three words). The preschooler responded with a sizable chunk of Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now.” Our parenting skills are off the charts.
• My 13-year-old: If Satan’s punishing all the sinners, isn’t that a good thing?
I was not ready for a theological discussion of this magnitude.
• I’m going to start talking 1980s just to confuse people. Like, “Those thongs are totally bitchin, gnarly dude.” I should probably throw a “rad” in there somewhere, just for flavor. Tubular.
I really need to get off the internet.
Jason’s newest book, “Chasing American Monsters: 251 Creatures, Cryptids, and Hairy Beasts,” is available at jasonoffutt.com.