One year without Twitter

I am grateful I have not spent the last dreadful year on Twitter.

On January 22, 2020, I decided to take a brief hiatus from Twitter. I made this decision shortly before the New York Times published my op-ed on impeachment. (Remember the impeachment?!). I did not know how long my self-imposed exile would last, or whether I would have the discipline to stick with it.

One year later, I am proud to be Twitter free. I still post links to my posts. I will click on a link to a tweet a friend sent me. And I occasionally use the direct messaging feature. But I never scroll through the timeline. I never check my notifications. If you've @'d me over the past year, I haven't seen it. If you've screen-shotted my work to subtweet me, I have no clue. I suspect the fact that I do not respond emboldens some people to @ me with righteous indignation. More power to them.

In hindsight, I quit Twitter at just the right time. I missed the Senate impeachment trial. I missed the pandemic. I missed Blue June. I missed the racial justice marches over the summer. I missed the election. I missed the election litigation. I missed January 6, 2021.

Yet, I was able to stay remarkably well informed. And, I would say, much happier and saner. Plus I have more time. I suspect I save hours every week--time much better spent elsewhere.

You should try it. Stop checking your timeline. Stop checking your notifications. The world will continue. And you can avoid the awful cesspool.