Aliya S. King

Good morning dear readers! (Okay, so it’s early afternoon. It’s been a rough morning…)

I’ve noticed that having my own office, away from the cluttered randomness of my home, has done wonders for my writing. And it’s made me want to streamline other parts of my life to make myself even more productive.

I keep my workspace relatively neat. I file things away immediately. I always make sure to tidy my desk before I leave at night so I can come into an inviting scene.

But there is one part of my work-life that is absolutely out of control.

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My ex-boyfriend deleted me as a Facebook Friend.
And I’m bothered by it. Probably way more than I should be.

I don’t pay much attention to my Friend List. I have my Friends neatly compartmentalized. When I get a friend request, I don’t just confirm them. I put them in a neat list that helps me to reference them properly. It took me hours on a rainy Saturday night to get this together and I’m quite proud of my system:

I'm a bit obsessed about my Friend Lists. I like order.

See, isn’t that soothing to the eye? I love looking at my Lists, so orderly and neat.

Because of my system, I pretty much add anyone who asks. I’m using Facebook as a marketing and network tool, no sense in being picky about Friends. If you ask, I add. At least 99% of the time. I even have a special category for people I just don’t know at all. It’s called Who Is This?

And I’ve never deleted anyone. Ever.

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This notification gives me hives.

This is the one Facebook notification that makes me feel all twitchy and ill. When I see it, my palms starting sweating and I move my mouse slowly, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling and saying a quick prayer before I click and see what hell awaits me.

This is what it means to have Facebook Photo Phobia©.

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I’m having a kick-ass year.

There. I said it out loud. My first book was published. Have I mentioned that it was on the NYT Bestseller’s list for two weeks straight!? I wrote cover stories like this one that I’m very proud of. I was profoundly moved and affected by experiences like this one–stories that become a part of the fabric of my life forever.

I’ve been working my butt off. And it’s paying off for me in both small and large ways.

And writing the above paragraph just made me sick to my stomach.

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