I got rid of Facebook a couple years ago. It felt great.
Then, like Michael Corleone, just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in.
At first, it was because I was helping a client with their social media. I got a burner account that I only used when absolutely necessary. Then, I slowly realized I was missing events and information from my neighborhood, my kids’ school, and our spouse club because I didn’t do Facebook. My alternative lifestyle became a burden to my friends who felt obligated to remember to tell me about things that were happening in my own community that I otherwise wouldn’t know about.
This is all bogus, by the way, but it’s actually what I want to address here.
Even though it’s currently below zero and snowing where I live, all eyes have cast forward to the summer as PCS orders have begun to arrive. I was recently chatting with a friend who was telling me about all the Facebook groups she had joined to learn about their new duty location. I gathered she had been flustered by some of the complaints she’d read.
But hold on…Facebook groups?
I used to belong to Facebook groups, sure. I remember when they started in the early days. They were for people who liked to quote Anchorman or enjoyed the cold side of the pillow. We didn’t really have memes then as we know them today. It was what had to suffice, and we were humbly grateful.
The idea that Facebook groups are about something meaningful or substantial is still wild to me. I belong to a couple on my burner account, but none are for our new duty station.
What ever happened to the adventure of letting yourself be pleasantly surprised? Or, if disappointed, the pioneering spirit of making the best of a bad situation? Why would I want some anonymous malcontent on Facebook telling me to steer clear of the commissary or how much their kid hated their teacher? What, exactly, am I supposed to do with this information?
I’ll admit to a near total lack of curiosity about our next location. Sure, I’ve looked into schools. I asked our realtor, whose kid went to the school I’m considering for my kids. She said her daughter liked it, so I feel okay about it.
I know what our property taxes will be and how much our mortgage will cost us. I have a general idea what kind of (awful) hours my husband will work. So beyond that, it’s all kind of up in the air, isn’t it?
There’s just no way of knowing if something’s going to be the worst ever or the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
I don’t know about you, but I really didn’t see the whole once-in-a-century pandemic thing coming. If I’d had a lot of preconceived notions about our current post, they’d have all likely been upended.
I’m sure I’m missing out on something by not doing a lot of research ahead of time. But I’m also fairly relaxed about our move this summer, so I’m not sure I’d trade whatever pearl of great price I’d get for joining spouse Facebook groups with the sense of overall contentedness I’m currently enjoying.
At the end of the day, I know who I am and what I believe.
I’ve got my marching orders to take care of my family and be the best employee and citizen I can be. Everything else is really incidental. I could plan every detail of our new life in a new state from here, I guess. But, as the saying goes, “No plan survives first contact with the enemy.”
