I never used Twitter before I began blogging. It was a trend I didn’t see the point in. Besides, Mike always told me what Wil and Anne Wheaton tweeted anyway. But Mike peer pressured me into getting on Twitter as a means to shamelessly promote my blog.
Side note: I had a fantastic idea when I thought about peer pressure. Why are schools not using The Borg episodes of Star Trek as a means to teach about peer pressure? When you think about it, it’s pretty perfect.
“They don’t really care about you as an individual. They just want to assimilate you into their Abercrombie cologne-hazed collective conscience. …..Don’t give in to peer pressure!”
Anyway, as I was reading my Twitter feed the other night, I read a series of drunk tweets from one of my favorite bloggers, Jenny Lawson: The Bloggess. As usual, she did not disappoint and had me laughing hysterically while Mike shook his head at me. Because he’s basically dead inside. It’s the only logical explanation. Or maybe his funny was just broken.
Today, though, it made me sad. Because of the assortment of medications I’m on for my fibromyalgia, (I’m definitely going to need a medicine pantry whenever we buy our next house) I’m no longer able to drink. My ability to drunk tweet has been stolen from me.
Of course, there are other things fibro has taken from me: the ability to lose weight; the ability to not gain weight; restful sleep; my energy; my ability to be a better parent; my mental acuity; the choice of whether or not to ever have another child.
But chief among these is clearly the ability to drunk tweet. I even thought up a poem about how sad it is while I was in the shower.
How many tweets could a girl drunk tweet,
If tweeting girl could drunk tweet?
….I really do my best thinking in the shower.