The hideousity of realising you're addicted to Facebook.

My realisation process began when on my wall, there was a 137-comment post.
Which spawned a 38-comment post.
Between Emily and I, and a few others.

Anyway, I am a shameful addict. I tell myself, "Get Kathryn to take away your password" - and then what? I begin failing, because I start telling myself, "No. You have willpower."
By the state of my wall, it is clear this is not the case. It is clear that I have little willpower at all. And thus I am going to limit myself to Evening Facebook. Rather than All Day Facebook.
Hopefully I shall wean myself off it. Cause it's just crazy.

I don't really understand how come it's so addictive. (I just surreptitiously closed my window with Facebook open. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's a fear that I'm being watched by the Facebook bosses and they're going to eat my face. Maybe it's trying to turn a leaf.) Seriously, if you logically pull it apart, it is just people saying generally dumb, occasionally witty and rarely poignant statements on the internet. 250-odd people who I don't know all too well - and I use the site to regularly converse with, what, 8 people at most? It's appalling. Maybe I go on there so much cause I'm bored - now uni's over, and I don't have a job, what do I do?
Go into the city seems a plan. Read, another. Write, yet another. Spend time with God? A big one. Get a volunteer job to bide my time til I get a legit job? Yes.

So now I'm grabbing Kathryn (she is unaware, as it is quarter to one in the morning) and begging her to join me as a Jeans for Genes day vendor.

Love us, we're kindly and stuff.