…then my fascination with FaceBook is the root of all discontent.
I’ve finally joined in on the social networking phenomenon that is FaceBook. I’ve learned a few things:
While Friends have been spending Friday nights dressed up and on the town, I thought I was the lucky dog getting to spend mine Costco–alone. (Think I should have the hair-netted food lady snap a shot of me for my profile?)
While a Friend writes she’s about to flit off to Peru for a few months, and says, “We’ll see where I land after that,” I realize the only unplanned landings in my life involve vomit.
While Friends write of watching sunsets and rainbows over tropical waterfalls, I plug my ears in the carwash while my kids scream during the rainbow wax.
While Friends from twenty years ago are still thin, I’m seriously wondering if they have a voodoo doll of me upon which they heap all their extra calories.
I jest. But I can tell you that before I hit FaceBook, I must remind myself of the many blessings with which God has lavished me:
- A body that sags three inches all over from carrying and nursing four miracles.
- Cracked tea cups nicknamed “Chip” to hold steaming cocoa on the afternoon of the first yearly snow.
- A man who loves me even when my eyebrows and moustache have grown out so much I look like an undercover CIA agent.
- Windows covered with little fingerprints to remind me the view is much better inside.
- Readers who laugh, cry and share their unmentionables with me.
Look out FaceBook, there’s a content woman on the way.