Sometimes, I really need a break from repeatedly hitting myself in the forehead with a hammer (or, in other words, writing.) At those times, I seek easy distractions: refreshing the site where I can track my Etsy, refreshing Submittable to see if anything I've written has finally been chosen for submission or rejection, or refreshing Facebook to see if anything notable has occurred in the last twenty minutes. Of my forays into the unimportant, Facebook is the worst, and not just for the reasons I mentioned in my last post.
The reason I sometimes loathe Facebook is that it rubs my face in failures I'd much rather forget. One of my Facebook friends always seems to be bettering themselves, whether that's getting a promotion in a respectable workplace, or graduating from a Master's or PhD program that will open huge numbers of doors for them. Their lives seem big and fancy, and mine feels small, mostly contained within the 1-acre plot of land my husband pays the mortgage for.