I’ve been reviewing my use of Twitter regularly of late. I’ve been logging out, moving my apps to a distant screen and turning off notifications because I’ve come to the erroneous conclusion that Twitter is bad for me and it fuels my mania.
After a few days with little input into Twitter but a lot of lurking I started to chat to people but only first thing in the morning and in the evening and only for a few tweets. This, because I’m a gobby mare, increased today and I realised that there was a bout of mania building up in me.
The light bulb moment occurred and I realised that Twitter doesn’t maake me manic nor does it fuel my mania if I ration myself but it does give me a good indicator of a manic episode in the making.
It turned out to be right because at 9.30 tonight I was clearing up after an hour of making lime curd. It’s not difficult but it is messy and I really should have had my feet up drinking tea and annoying everybody on social media.
I have before me a map of Spitalfields. I’m going to be in London in October for a day trip so I’m going to take photos of the Spitalfields Roundels. I took a photo of one of them last time I was over that way thinking it was a manhole cover and now I’ve found out what they are I want to take photos of the whole set. Thus the map in front of me trying to plot where the locations are even though it’s about two months away.
Meanwhile I am dreaming about the curry I’ll have on Brick Lane, the place where all the curry houses are endorsed by famous people. Magical.