I quit Twitter – just a few days ago. I had several reasons, including the re-instatement of the account of that eedjit south of the border. Had enough of him, don’t need more.
I have enough trouble juggling three email accounts/identities plus associated duties as permanent or occasional “admin” for several other accounts, two facebook pages, and my own webpage/blog.
I joined Twitter at the urging of people who said it would be good for my writing career; and also because I thought I may get police, fire, and other emergency warnings in time to take safety measures.
The latter never happened. My career might have benefitted if I’d used Twitter, but I found it more of a nuisance than a help. It sent me oodles of notices about this or that person who had just posted something allegedly of interest to me, and to whom I felt I should respond.
Later, when I had time.
Later never came.
Then, a bunch of employees at Twitter – real people, not bots – up and quit, and others got fired. At the same time, Sobeys’ info-in-the-sky system got hacked or intruded upon – and no one has explained in a way that I can understand. Coincidence? Probably. But reducing my online footprint seemed like a better idea than expanding it. Twitter was the obvious casualty because 1. I already disliked using it and 2. I get the feeling it is using me.
I may be wrong. But this is a free country and I can quit if I want. So I did. One of my Facebook identities may be next.
My calendar is full of events and appointments and I have a lot of work to do, people to see, places to go. Real work, real people and real places – not virtual (a word which, oddly, means true, not hollow digital items).
I wonder how far I can and will go with this cutback?
It’s hard to carry on business these days without any or all of a website, a telephone, and a Facebook presence. So I won’t disappear altogether into ‘netless silence.
What to do with my tweetless time? Write. Play. Converse in person. Or I may just sit back and smell the roses – or the cookies. The edible kind.