The Blue ticks side of life.

There was a time when texting was life in my world. I’d spend hours, days, months even having lengthy conversations over text messages. I could write books, bibles even on my phone and it just never got old.

And then one day I woke up and texting irritated me. It could be that I used up my text messaging quota for this lifetime in the decade and a half I spent abusing the function. Who knows?  Anyway, it’s so bad that I completely muted ALL my messaging apps. That way, I see text messages when I go out of my way to see them. Otherwise, they do not disrupt my life one bit. And I cannot properly explain the kind of peace and freedom the silence gives. What with WhatsApp group messages beeping all day long *rolls eyes* I really don’t know how you guys stand it.

The problem with this evolution, though, is that nearly everyone I’ve ever had a lengthy conversation (via text) with in the past has a hard time believing and/or understanding what changed. I keep getting the “why didn’t you reply” or “didn’t you see my text message” question. And it really is exhausting to have to explain every time that it’s not them, it’s me who hates texting. Don’t get me wrong, I love reading text messages. They’re definitely A LOT more pleasant than phone calls… I just don’t like to text back, particularly when the reply requires anything more than a single sentence.

There are exceptions to this rule, of course. There always are. But that’s a story for another day.

And no, I will not be turning my ‘last seen’and read receipts off anytime soon. At some point, we all have to learn, understand and deal with the fact that people can’t always get back to us immediately; and that’s okay (or it should be, anyway).

How I wish we all used voice notes and videos to communicate though. Now those, I love.

I hope you are all having a wonderful Thursday!

xoxo

Bubbles, Pinotage and Turning 25 — Epicurious Diaries

It’s the quarter century already. Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday that I was turning 13, and then 16, 18, 20 and 21 after that. Now 25! Somebody STOP. THaT. CLOCK! Okay, I don’t really mean that. I love that…

via Bubbles, Pinotage and Turning 25 — Epicurious Diaries