Facebook is my crack. My drug of choice. My lover. My best friend. My life.
As I am writing this, I am wondering what is happening on Facebook. Has anybody friended me? Has anyone read my blog posts and left the phone number of the best agent in the U.S. – no, they want my number so that agent can drop what they are doing and call me. Well, has anyone done that? Let me go look. Not yet.
I am pathetic.
I remember a lifetime ago when Facebook was for kids. Until an uber intelligent friend inquired if I was on Facebook. Of course not, I snorted back at him. I wear a bra, you know. Well, he was on FB. What? So I signed up with the hopes that I would perceived as enlightened and ahead of the times as he was.
Now before I do get ahead of myself, I can’t knock my time with Facebook. I used it first to see what people were doing who I used to work with. People got married and had kids and that was nice to see that life goes on and morphs into something brand new.
And my psycho bitch from hell boss tried to friend me, but I contacted the authorities and was able to move to a safe house. I am so grateful that I get to pick who can see what I am up to. So abusive ex-bosses need not apply. Or my mother.








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