I hate social media. OK, perhaps I don’t hate it. It’s more that I find it aggravating.
Go ahead and post 1,000 photos of yet another stellar European vacation or even your hot self wearing a bikini and killing it at age 50. None of that bothers me.
I don’t even care when the super moms of the world daily share about their kids breaking another sports record on the same day they received the “great, but totally expected news” that their teen genius got a perfect ACT score. Bring it! I’m all over hitting the “heart” and “wow” emoji for you.
What’s zapping my mojo is when people share life improvement tips that morph into a series of show off moments. The latest one is the 30-day De Clutter Challenge. For the record it’s bad. Not as bad as the “Gratitude Posts” that took over Facebook two years ago, but give it time.
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At first I was all about it. There’s a calendar that shows what area of clutter you need to work on every day. I was excited and ready to actually take part in a Facebook group. I clicked on “join” and was raring to go. Count me in on being part of the Summer 2017 De-Clutter frenzy.
What I didn’t expect was all the humble bragging. For example, last week it said to “go through old shoes.” There should have been an asterisk next to that challenge stating “and by ‘go through’ we don’t mean posting on social media about your shoes.”
I get it. A sizable portion of the female population has a shoe fetish. How else can you explain DSW? But, what I don’t get are fools who pay upward of $1,000 for footwear that resembles something a fashion-forward Pilgrim would have worn boarding the Mayflower on a breezy fall day in 1620. (I’m talking to you Manolo Blahnik.)
Furthermore, who uses a de-clutter challenge as an opportunity to post about the heartache of deciding what four-figure designer shoes to purge? Please, stop. Everyone knows there’s a better chance that these women would rather sell their blood plasma than get rid of single shoe.
The shoe show and tell then led to closet tours, which scared me because I didn’t get all oohy and ahhy. Is something wrong with me because I have no desire to remake a bedroom into a closet with a trio of chandeliers and a “handbag bar”?
If you’re wondering right now what a “handbag bar” is, let me break it down for you. It’s basically a kitchen island in your closet where you display your purses on Lucite stands.
I’m so old school I still share a closet with my husband. The horrors! And if I was going to display something it would be the pair of jeans I’ve been trying to fit into for two decades. (That right there is what I need help with: letting go of things that will never happen.)
The next day when the challenge was to clean out your fridge, these same shoe women started posting pictures of their commercial size refrigerators. The appliances, the size of a Sasquatch, were so big I’m positive they would cause my home’s electrical panel to explode. One group member, I kid you not, shared a picture of herself inside her refrigerator. I’m afraid that was the final straw.
I decided to go rogue. I de-cluttered my life from these women. Yep, I dropped out of the group that had become less about home organization and more about overt showboating. Now, not that I would ever humble brag myself, but that’s what I call a very efficient life purge.
Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@ gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs, on Twitter at @snarkynsuburbs and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.