My nighttime routine is pretty simple: wash my face, brush my teeth, hunt very thoroughly through the Instagram profiles of everyone I want to shade until my thumbs hurt or I blissfully drift off to sleep (whichever comes first). Repeat every night until the day I die.
Sometimes I hate-stalk strangers, but mostly it's people I do know but do not like (including you, girl who bullied me in middle school and now has 482 followers and lots of charcoal toothpaste #sponcon). It's like settling in with
The Real Housewives: I'm free to judge—which I definitely, definitely do—what's playing out onscreen from the comfort of my sweatpants.
"Ha! At least I'm not you," my brain says when the unfamous GF of my celeb crush uses "there" instead of "their." It's the same high I get whenever Kyle Richards suddenly makes me feel like my shit is
alllll the way together.
I double-checked with a friend that it's not just me (which I know it's not but still want reassurance that I'm not the lone asshole), and she replied: "Obviously. It's the only fun thing to do on Instagram anymore."
Fun *and*, it turns out, a nice juicy distraction from the world, says Meghan Jablonski, PhD, clinical psychologist and validator of nefarious scrolling.
READ ON 
0 comments:
Post a Comment