If a Tree Falls on Facebook...Does it Make a Sound?

Right at the moment, Facebook functions solely as a way to make sure friends are still alive. I have a funny feeling that I appear in few News Feeds, and it’s OK. The idea is to sigh and mutter that one has “no time for that stupidity.” As I say in a play, “Few are strong enough for a game of Passive/Aggressive Facebook. It takes a person with nerves of steel and hours of idle time.” Today, I was in the Mental Health Committee meeting at Church, listening to real people with real problems, for whom I might provide a bit of help or comfort. Being neither BiPolar nor Schizophrenic (or is the former the new name of the latter?), I realize that I am a whining little turd with no real problem except an overactive imagination that kicks into obsessive/compulsive which leaves me married to a man so awful that I end up obsessively fantasizing about a different man and forget that I have a career rotting on the vine. That’s it. That’s all. I don’t hear voices. I don’t have panic attacks or wild furies. I have enough food and a decent shelter. I hate to say it, but I have had a damn good real life and a wild fantasy life that I’ve managed to turn into plays. No one will read this blog and I could probably say ANYTHING and there would be no repercussion (poopie kaka!)  and I will not sell one ticket to one play. That has to happen in real life, and not in my imagination or Facebook.