deleted my FB on Sunday.

They give you 14 day grace period to change your mind. It will be an inconvenience not to have FB but I’m not going back.

They let you download a full archive of everything you’ve done while you were there, and a long list of advertisers and entities who have your info, every message you ever sent or received, every link and every ad you clicked, and the timestamp of every login and the IP address of where you were, of all the years you had an account with them.

A 180mb zip file – a trophy for the hours and weeks and months I spent making data for them to sell.

This brings about all kinds of thoughts. Do we take a thumbdrive with zetabytes of our life data at the end of it all?

Or do we spend a week in limbo and make a film choosing one memory to spend an eternity with, like in that Hirokazu Kore-Eda’s movie?

Also, my nice work clothes are now covered in urine. Subway riders next to me are reacting in appreciation, and the client will surely love it too. This is even better than the avocado and olive oil that dried by now that’s on my other suit.

Urine mixed with tiny hint of D.S.&Durga I already had on – a precious small-batch Brooklyn scent maker that I only use for client visits – this is so delightful I should patent it.

People who are crowded on 6am Monday morning buses are as exhausted looking as I am. It looks like all light has been extinguished from their eyes.

Except they look like they’ve been doing this for a few more years. Every day. Or maybe that’s just what doing it every day does to you.