All things in moderation

That was my mother's motto. She was pretty extreme about her moderation.

I had a glass of wine last night whilst watching TV, the end of a bottle that I've been using for cooking. It was a'ight. It mostly made me sleepy. I did not suffer for it. I'm glad for that. I'm still hoping that when real summer happens (we've had two pseudo-summers so far), I will be able to enjoy some beer. With company.

I pop into Twitter from time to time. I have posted or shared a few times and replied a few times. I'm not feeling compelled to go through every tweet in my feed that has shown up since the last time I looked. Apparently I'm using the hours (yes, hours) I used to spend on Twitter doings something else. I don't feel that I have the time to give to Twitter that I once did.

I miss knowing what's up with friends and neighbours. I miss feeling connected and better informed about issues. I do not miss the compulsion to check my timeline often, getting wound up by Twitter, or having to censor myself so as not to give offence. I do not miss GIFs, TikToks, or snark.

I am not going to preach the joys of reducing social media and/or screen time. Everyone has to figure out what works for them. The difference in my brain is still noticeable, but my brain is weird.

I'm currently reading The Obelisk Gate, the second book in The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. If anything, I'm even more absorbed in it than in the first book, The Fifth Season. Jemisin's world invention is astounding. And all while telling a rippin' yarn, she says important things about us and the society we live in.

I'm also reading another ostensible self-help book, another that I learned about through CBC Radio 1, called The Dance Cure by Dr. Peter Lovatt. If it helps my self, great, but I'm mostly interested in the what happens in our brain and body when we dance. Very interesting so far. Maybe I'll start bopping around the living room like no one is watching.