I go on like a robot, and truthfully I do gain some insight into things, but daily I am surrounded by the perfect, the happy, the non flawed lives of my “friends.”  Friends is putting it in a much wider scope than my actual life.  Friends now includes only people who do not drive me nuts with their incessant over posting about their tooth brushing, new shoes, or other mindless stuff.  That leaves me with the perfect.  Those who I haven’t seen in twenty plus years, those I worked with in my twenties, those who dated one of my brothers once, those I wish I had dated when I was 16, and others who have no place in my real life.

Husbands who post pictures of their wives and talk about how much they love them.  My husband and I look at each other once a year and ask each other when the heck our anniversary is.  You would think that is a date we would remember (at least I should) .  People who make fabulous dinners or desserts and post pics of them.  Yikes, we are having pizza again.  Books that have been consumed at rampant speed, while I am still on the first.  Great travels and vacations.  And then those fabulous day off adventures people take, when I keep my kids home all day watching tv so I can get work done.

I am not totally sure why I do it to myself.  I know people only post their best things, and maybe their marriage or baking skills are really not that great after all.  Who knows.  After the pictures of the beautiful vacation where the loving couple are interlocked in the beautiful landscapes – maybe they go home and fight or cheat or something.  Maybe it is not all sugar and spice with their perfect homes or perfect kids.  Maybe it is just like mine, but they feel the need to post about it when it is good.

I never feel like my stuff is all that interesting or newsworthy.  But I guess it is my secret passive/aggressive fun to continue to feed off of other people’s lives.