I know I’m not the only one, but I have this super complicated relationship with Tumblr as a (mostly) functional adult who really shouldn’t be on Tumblr. I actually just went through a major Tumblr drought because I kept telling myself, Mari, come on. Ain’t nobody got time for Tumblr. You have papers to grade. You have an office to vacuum. Today you had 10 Ritz crackers with some peanut butter for lunch and you need to acquire some dinner HELLO. Also, your closet looks like the aftermath of a hurricane that occurred during an apocalypse that wiped out 90% of mankind. NO TUMBLR FOR YOU. NONE.
And so, I didn’t Tumblr. I didn’t Tumblr for many, many moons. This was during those last three months or so of 2015 when I was overworking myself for fun & profit. I didn’t return to Tumblr until my 2 weeks of Winter Break, when I logged on and reblogged a few things here and there, then slowly started going back to my usual posting-a-lot-all-at-once-and-then-vanishing-for-24-hours routine. And you know what? It was actually good. I began to realize that Tumblr time has this bizarre calming effect on me. As a notorious workaholic who apparently has to work in order NOT to work, scrolling through my feed before bedtime counts as one of the few ways I can come close to shutting my brain off. (“You’re not hyper, your brain is hyper.” – my dad) Even after going back to work, and even though I really thought I would drop Tumblr again when school was back in session, I stayed. I’ve decided that I need it for stress relief.
It’s weird, I suppose, and I’m sure it’s more than a little bit irresponsible, but now even on weekdays I try to give myself at least half an hour of mindless Tumblr time. I reblog things to my // VERY CAREFULLY CURATED // collection of trash, photography, and tags of me wailing about Lee Jong Suk. I snack on something sugary and awful. I crank up my tiny space heater and put the same song on repeat the entire time. I stop thinking about work and school and what can I do for this child and why can’t this one remember that two quarters is fifty cents and all the other things always rushing through my head without a break. It’s nice.
Also, cheaper than real therapy. That’s important cause I am quite poor.