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.