…and no I’m not talking about the movie. Or the book, or anything to do with space or geography or whatever.
I’m talking about Sunday, August 6, 2017, when my Instagram died. Literally. It’s been dead for three hours now. It’s now 4:31 pm and I have separation anxiety. So I went on Twitter and keyed in “#instagramdown” and realised that I wasn’t the only one suffering. No, I’m not a junkie.
*Swiftly averts eyes*
I just use it as a platform to basically talk about stuff I like and I do like watching makeup brands and their colorful stories showing what products are launching soonish so I know which part of my lunch money I’ll be wearing on my face next. As in, will I be wearing my KFC money or my Subway money or my boyfriend’s PayTM money or my overpriced Starbucks packed-with-thigh-grabbing-calories dessert money on my eyeballs come holiday season?
This whole Instagram down thing is driving me batcrap crazy because it’s a pain in the goddamn neck not knowing what that horrible cow from fourth grade is up to this Friendship Day. And what that gold-digger is up to this weekend and what she’s showing off so I can pretend not to care, while savagely dissecting her extravagant lifestyle in my head. See, this is what happens when you’re a doctor with no prospects – broken camera, ratty jeans and no sex life – you become that girl who people judge because you’re judging other people. Actively. On social media. To yourself. In the quiet corner of the library where no one even knows you’re hunched in.
So no you understand what I’m going through, right? And why I need Instagram back because of totally non-junkie reasons? Someone tell me when it’s gonna come back because I refuse to go to bed without putting up an insta story. And don’t tell me my internet sucks and that I should uninstall and reinstall because that crap didn’t work. Someone help me out.
Also, happy Friendship Day Folks!!