English: Maldives Meeru island

Why am I not here? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If so I most definitely have a bad case of it. And I’m worried it may be contagious. Viral even. With a slight trace of an envious rash.

My Ex has recently been traumatising entertaining me on Facebook, with pictures of him on holiday with his new girlfriend. Yup, I know, I was supposed to delete him off Facebook weeks ago. But as we’ve already established, I have the willpower of a squirrel with a bag of nuts.

But it’s not just pictures of my Ex that cause mild vexation. According to Facebook the whole world is on holiday, drinking a cool glass of Pinot Grigio, whilst I’m stuck at work. (Admittedly I’m usually avoiding work by playing on social media sites, but still, I’m at work. It’s my location that counts. I obviously just need to explain this to my boss at some point.)

For example there’s an old friend from high school. Let’s call her Carol. She posts endless pictures on Facebook of her rather pretty Audi, and stunning villa holidays in the Maldives and Bali. (Although not at the same time, I don’t think even she earns enough to ship the car to the Indian Ocean.) She has an amazing job. And as we haven’t actually spoken in years I am convinced her life is movie star perfect.

Then there’s the endless pictures of friends’ children. Lots and lots of babies. Which makes me feel like I should have a baby. Not because I’m broody. But just because everyone else has one. And if you take too many photos of your cat…well, people think you’re mad. Which isn’t really fair when you think about it.

Plus thanks to the wonders of Instagram, people look distinctly more beautiful online. They should invent an Instagram mirror, to provide the same effect in your own home. I would buy one. I appreciate it would provide an overly flattering, and somewhat false reflection. But it would make me feel way more perky in the morning if my skin was a beautiful senna hue. Although, it would be a cheaper, and more realistic option, to see if B&Q sell light bulbs in a burnt brown colour.

I don’t think people are intentionally trying to brag. After all you can’t complain about your job on Facebook in case you get sacked. Or complain about your partner in case you get dumped. So people self censor by being terminally happy.

But according to the wonders of technology, I am constantly under achieving, under travelled, and under sun tanned.

It would be nice if they could invent a new social media site. “Ventbook” would work. Completely anonymous, personal photos banned. A grumble site. Just so whenever life isn’t going particularly your way, you can log on and realise that the rest of the world is perfectly imperfect too.

So for the rest of the day I intend to bypass Facebook for once. Instead I am going to look on holiday websites. Much more productive. My boss will be sooo pleased.

Big Love

Evie XXXXXXXXXX

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