Rudhraigh

So, this totally didn’t work.

Who could have seen that coming?

I even turned off all of the mail notification, my downfall was the fact that I still got notifications from groups I’m in and the temptation to stay and have a wee look around was a bit too much for my delicate constitution. With the many intense timedrains of this festive season, as well as the impending nature of my New Yorkafication, Facebook was just a BIT too hard to ignore. Maybe I shouldn’t have picked the one time of the year when I actually might need Facebook in a practical manner.

I’d like to try this again, cause the three days of Facebook freeness were just lovely.

So. I’ve been home in Ireland for under a month and like, what have I learned?

Home is where the heart is. For a while. It certainly is. You glow. You’re there. Then suddenly, you’ve said your hello’s and it’s basically just where your stuff is. And then, once you’ve gotten bored of your stuff, its where your old problems are. And then, if you’re lucky, the quiet.* Eventually though, no matter how awesome your home is or unless you live with Hulk Hogan, it’s where your routine is. I’m sure there are people for who routine is a good thing. They’re clever, they’re motivated. Their routine consists of up at seven after a good night’s sleep, brush teeth, comb hair, run five miles, come home, work on the book, send an email, have a healthy lunch, go out and give a talk to kids at the local library, go for run along beach, come home, work on the extension to your fifteen bedroom hand-built home, have a dinner with the woman you love so much you’ve never questioned your relationship, leave the bed late at night, work on the book, read another book, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, love, bliss, sleep.

Sadly this is not my routine, how ever much I would love it to be. My routine has always been a little different to this. It’s been alot less defined because sadly I’m not the type of person who analyses any USEFUL routine. But for this trip home, for whatever reason, it’s different. It’s more like this:

Wake, whereami?, sleep, dream, ihavenoideawhereiam, alarm, snooze? Yes! Up? Dream? No. WAKE. UP Now, no….Sleep, different dream but remember last dream, deeper dream, forget, wake, what? Fuck! shut up? phone, Hello? No you didn’t wake me! Okay! Bye! click, stand. Dream?

Now, in my mind, this is the key moment of the day. I’m standing on my newly born, gazelle like pins and looking at the other side of the room because that is the side where my laptop lays, in the rolltop desk I stole/inherited from my grandparents. It’s where I go before I do anything else. I immediately think, should I go there? Is the first thing that you can possibly think of finding out what’s going on “Online”?.

I think: NO! GO DO SOMETHING ELSE! But then, my brain hit’s snooze again. And suddenly, a minute later, I’m online. And I’m thinking without thoughts.

And then, breaking for food, toilet and responsibilities, and that’s my day until I need to go to sleep.

So. As an experiment, I’m gonna try limiting myself. Not cause Facebook is a particular focus, but it’s certainly the tool I spend the most on without any tangible return. So I’m giving up Facebook until New Year as an experiment to see how it affects my routine. After tomorrow night is gone, Until the 1st of January, I’m quitting Facebook. I’m not gonna check, I’m not gonna do it at all.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

*This is all overdramatised to make this project seem like it needs to be done when in fact it’s just something I’d like to do for a laugh. Or to see if I don’t.