I’m going to cut the BS here, avoid any meandering that will lead you to the real core of this post (assuming that there is a core to this) and just be up front.
I deleted Instagram from my phone last week.
Caved after 4 hours
Shaking with the need to fill my eyes with flowers, furniture, and messy yet curated work studios, I stumbled through the App store and re-downloaded the new and improved IG.
HOW MANY PHOTOS OF AVOCADO TOAST DID I MISS? Too many.
4 HOURS people.
This past week, my Instagram feed’s sponsored content like essentially tripled.While I enjoy Man Repeller, I am not interested in Ivanka Trump’s photos of the ballet, or of the McDonald’s breakfast sandwich (which, let’s be honest, pales in comparison to the Starbucks one… am I right? Oh, I’m right).
Months ago, I stopped visiting my Facebook feed. To give me distance and peace and a little more time. Without realizing it, I just took that time and distance and reinvested it into the exact same thing, just the photograph version of it.
Side note: the fact that Facebook owns Instagram, and that the new ad model is predicted to bring 2.1 BILLIONS dollars of revenue, and that amount could feed 46 million people healthy food for two years.
Second side note, I slammed into a wine display at the grocery store yesterday, kids in tow. Shattered glass and pools of humiliation on the ground. I ended up buying that broken bottle and another, which was consumed in Conscious Unsobering. (genius credit: Annabelle Agnew). You’re going to find that gem on Instagram real soon.
Addicted to Instagram. Oh yes.
I haven’t yet checked it today, but you know I will! Like 5 million times.
But I will try again. I’m going to fast weekly.
From Friday sundown to Saturday sundown. That is my pledge. To help me climb out of the vortex of imagery that Instagram creates.
Can I succeed?
Will I complain about it?
So long friends, I will find you on the other side of this Sabbath.