Apparently, I’ve gone off the deep end

This afternoon, while busily working at my desk, I answered the intercom phone. The caller ID showed it was Rich, from the business office.

HIM: You’ve gone off the deep end this time, I’m telling you.

ME: What? What’d I do now?

HIM: You’re cracked, I tell you. Cracked.

ME: What! Why?

HIM: Your dog has a Facebook account?

ME: Who told you that?

HIM: I can see him. He’s got a Facebook account. And you told me this morning, ding dong.

ME: Oh, right. I forgot.

HIM: Well, why didn’t he friend me?

Alas, I have succumbed to peer pressure and opened a Facebook account. But I didn’t open it under my own name. I’ve been avoiding Facebook like the plague because it’s just another thing that will involve time spent in a seated position at a computer. And I already do enough of that. Besides, I’d heard it was really addictive, like crack. Or worse, Photoshop.

So I opened the account under George’s name after a friend did the same for her dog, and begged asked me to pleeeaaassseee get George on Facebook. Her dog already had 19 friends and I needed to hurry.

Rich was laughing at George’s profile, after I quickly friended him (he’s happy to be in the loop now) and was looking at all George’s friends and reading his wall and laughing at the fact that the dog admitted eating some pop tart for breakfast this morning.

I just don’t know about this Facebook thing.

Facebook is crazy and has tentacles that go into your mail system and pull up oodles of potential friends for you. Last night, I began clicking on people that I knew, and some blogging friends and did a group friend request. However, I accidentally clicked on one of my sons and after I realized I’d made the mistake, I wrote him telling him he didn’t have to friend the dog. (My sons don’t share their Facebook accounts with me and I’m fine with that).

To my surprise, rather than responding to the e-mail he friended George back. And then sent him a song he’d recorded. Unfortunately, I can now see my son’s wall. And his pictures. And holy hannah, let me tell you, it’s more than I wanted a young dog to know.

So I’ve gone off the deep end. I just needed you to know that.

What’s the world coming to?