Tuesday (day 2)
5:30am - When I see other runners during my morning run, rather than avoiding eye contact as I usually do, I actually have the urge to sidle up and chat. Luckily for all the urge soon passes.
9:30am - I'm at the doctor and can't decide what will be more painful: getting sliced and diced by my dermatologist or not being able to foist the gross details upon my social network.
10:00am - Still waiting (topless) to be carved up like a Christmas goose by the doc. Since I can't tweet or update Facebook, I'm forced to read the ladies magazines to kill time.
My testosterone levels begin dropping like a rock; I need a Sports Illustrated, stat!
12:30pm - Back in the office, all stitched up, my repressed need to share my experience results in me blurting out about it in the work lunch room. Group lunch ends prematurely.
2:15pm - I tell a coworker about my new meat smoker. He tells me that I now need a wireless meat thermometer to go with it. My brain is about to explode from the sheer volume of "meat thermometer" jokes that will go unshared online.
4:05pm - Constant checking of Twitter and Facebook is now replaced by constant checking of email; I feel like I'm in 1998 all over again - but with a receding hairline.
6:15pm - Read this great article on Oreos and can't share it with my social network, causing me to now develop a facial tic.
8:30pm - I'm trying to decide whether to use traditional fiberglass insulation or the newer spray foam type when redoing the top floor of my house, but need help and information. How the heck did the Egyptians built pyramids without being able to turn to their online social network for advice?
8:45pm - Two days without social media has left me feeling like this:
I've even lost the will to floss. My wife and kids tuck me into bed with unclean gums.
Wednesday (day 3)
5:00am - I really miss picking up my iPhone first thing when I get up and seeing a message notification from Twitter or Facebook (queue up "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles).