How In The Hell Did I Lose 45 Minutes Of My Life?

When did time change?

As a kid, I always thought 20 minutes of time was the equivalent of watching grass grow. (Especially when I had to read.) It would never end.

Fast forward thirty years.

Time somehow changed. It’s like it got addicted to 5 hour energy drinks.

It goes by so fast. It’s precious. It’s almost a commodity to be traded.

“Can you make sure the kids read their books so I can have 20 minutes of alone time.” <—–says me all the time

And I’m ninja with my time. I can fold three loads of laundry in 20 minutes. Make dinner in 15 minutes. Put on my makeup in five minutes. Break up a fight over which show to watch (by the way, neither “Kickin It” or “Jessie” are shows worth fighting over) in 30 seconds.

So in my world where time is a precious commodity, how in the hell did I just lose 45 minutes by being on Facebook?

Seriously, 45 minutes. Do you know what I have to trade my husband to get 45 minutes on my own? (It ain’t sweet potato pie, I’ll tell you that much.)

Facebook starts so innocently. It’s about catching up with friends. Seeing pictures of nieces and nephews. Drooling over Justin Timberlake.

And then it turns into 45 minutes of reading about Duck Dynasty’s Robertsons, Secret Drinks at Starbucks, and watching a couple who I’ve never met reinact the last dance scenes from Dirty Dancing.

45 minutes, people? Do you know what I could have done in that time?

So that’s it. I’m banning Facebook. I’m flying right. I’m embracing being technology free. I’m going to be a keeper of my time.

Or, who am I kidding? I’m going to post this Facebook as soon as I get done with it, and get caught up in 15 Most Awkward Family Photos or Duck Dynasty Men before their beards. And get better at trading my husband for time.