I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. It’s full of absolute rubbish, but I like to keep an eye on how my family and friends are doing. From time to time I find myself angry as I scroll through my timeline. Like today, when one of my relatives liked and shared this post:
Oh come on. Seriously? That’s a photograph? Of the Pope and Mary? Really? REALLY?
It was then, as I hunched over my phone scrolling through hundreds of comments to find at least one other person who thought it was hilariously fake, I realised why it had angered me.
Facebook is a place where intelligent yet digitally naive are exposed to a world they don’t really understand. It’s hard to watch. I think I’ll take a break from it for a while.
I know it’s really domestic of me to be annoyed about this, but when I lived in the flat I used to see these dotted across the stairwell all the time. It infuriated me, because I’d pick it up, put it in the bin and it would just appear again the next day! Turns out it wasn’t the neighbours trying to break my spirit, but rather the postman being lazy after unbundling letters.
Now I live in a house it’s not as bad (maybe because this postman isn’t as lazy), but I see them every now and again and I’m reminded of the red-rubber-band-third-floor-flat hell.
I googled it today and found that Royal Mail even have a department where you can send them back to be recycled. This must happen everywhere!
If you want to be sad, you can send the red rubber bands back to: Royal Mail, Rubber Band Recycling Department, Freepost, Tomb Street, Belfast BT1 1AA.