Crap. There go three hours of my life I’ll never get back. And now I feel hungover. Now I know what Alice was thinking when she went down the rabbit hole.
“There is a place. Like no place on Earth. A land full of wonder, mystery, and danger! Some say to survive it: You need to be as mad as a hatter. Which luckily I am.” ~Mad Hatter, Alice in Wonderland
You know how it goes, you go to Pinterest, see something but before you have a chance to check it out it logs you in automatically and you will never see that again. You make a mental note to change your settings to not automatically log in, but … yeah, that’s part of the hook, they don’t WANT you to not log in automatically. They NEED you to do that, it gets more exposure for them and the pins, and then everyone on your list gets to see your own special version of crazy A.D.D.
It’s so simple, so easy, such a basic interface. You start out checking what those you follow added. And then when you’re done with that you just innocently click on the “Everything” button.
DON’T DO THAT.
You will not get out for hours!
You’ll be scarred and amused.
I got lost in it. I saw pictures of gardens and bathrooms and realized in an instant that I will never ever have the money or the lifestyle to have those. So for a brief moment in time, simple images posted by people I don’t know, of things I never knew I wanted or was interested in, made me feel very little. I drank that bottle and shrunk.
Then came the humor, the snark that made me feel bigger, and the smile as big as the Cheshire cat came over me.
I felt a certain alliance with a person, or rather a group of people including those who liked and repinned this, forming a complete little club of people who never thought to know each other, and decided to continue that way in silence.
I came across some shoes, which took me down a path to follow, chasing after something that wasn’t there. It was a pair of boots this time, a style and design I had always wanted, and instantly saw a boot fantasy come true. Chick porn. With a little trepidation I clicked on the image, fearing the price would be prohibitive and once again it would put me in the state of mind that the glorious home decor remodels did, but this time worse, because this was something I truly craved, wanted and could use.
It was catastrophic, I was crushed. The link was a dead link. I frantically returned to the post to check the comments, to see if the name of the brand and style of boot was listed, but it wasn’t. I found myself digging, digging into the history of the pin to find the original, and still nothing. I was distraught, left in a crumbled puddle of disappointment, having come so close to attaining a long held goal and then learning that once again, it is actually possible it is as unattainable as finding a unicorn. Just a myth of an existence.
(note, if anyone recognizes these boots please forward me a link or a name. They’re not doc martens, they’re closer to near knee-high paddock boots. The details matter here. Skip the socks, soooo not interested in those!!)
After I settled into the disappointment I sought out new humor, to find a fix for my mood, hoping to find another little message that said “read me”. I did. I saw a funny and followed it, and then got lost in a stranger’s board of inspiration. (Boy, there are some whacked out people there, and when they mis-pin a board post it’s funny, like those questionable tattoos that end up next to a religious post, hee hee.)
I found a pin to end on, one that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, finding a bond with a supposed group of people who I can assume represent the entire adult universe because a few people repinned it, therefore it means I’m not bat shit crazy over something that otherwise would be considered psychologically unstable. Medications be damned, I’m normal because someone else pinned it! And it’s a childhood thing, who can mess with that?!
But then I clicked back to my home page (once again completely forgetting to change my settings from auto-login) and saw crap, more people had posted. I might have to catch up again. Nooooo, the cycle would start all over, I can’t have that, but I’m drawn to it, I can’t look, I can’t not look, I’m trapped.
And there they were staring back at me, the picture of the boots I had only just re-pinned. They are there, right in front of me, as a simple reminder that they are out of reach. The disappointment and exhaustion take over, whisking them away slowly from my grasp as the fog from the mists overtake them and they quietly shift from the top row of pins as others I follow pin more, pushing them further and further from my view.
Oh look, chocolate dipped pretzels that look like candy corn …. yay.