Not the smartest hacker…

My friend texted me today. He wanted to know when the last time I posted on my Instagram account. Admittedly it had been a woefully long time. I have accounts on all the social media and I’m terrible about it. A person can only do so much. I’d say I’m lazy, but that’s insane. I’m so busy all the time. The list of stuff I have to do is outrageous. I feel guilty if I sit still and my laptop isn’t open.

• There’s an entire book to finish.
• There are two new covers to plan with a looming deadline
• 6 chapters we have to edit
• A printer needs to be found to print the six chapters and two covers into booklets
• A banner needs to be made
• I have to get everything ready for our appearance at the Tucson Festival of Books
• We have a dinner to plan for that same festival
• Friend from above (in the previous paragraph not heaven, although he’d like to think…) will be here in March.
• My Honey’s birthday is next week
• I need to write a newsletter in the next week
• There are blog posts nearly every day
• I have to work — really, really work — for nearly 10 hours a day at my regular job and there’s no time to do author-y stuff during that time
• Both of my kids are trying to get the flu and as you can see from this list I don’t have time to get sick
• My house is a disaster
• I need to get into see my own doctor but who has the time?
• My car needs to see the mechanic
• I have stacks of books I’m dying to read and they simply sit there and mock me.
• I’d really, really like to get some sleep

These are the things that come to mind immediately. I’m sure there’s more. Honestly social media doesn’t even hit the top 25 things I’m freaking out about.

Still, Kurt suggested I take a look at my Instagram account every once in a while. Fine, I popped in.

OH SWEET JESUS!

It appeared I’d been hacked.  Kurt was pretty sure I’d been hacked, too, considering my grammar is NEVER that bad — not even when I’m drunk. I really should have taken a picture before I deleted the new profile. Let’s just say it would be best described as boob-centric. Lots of boobs. Very large boobs.

Kurt considered the other possibility was that I had an alter ego who was a complete slut.

It’s not an outrageous suggestion. I mean, I’m not with myself ALL the time. Lord only knows what shenanigans I get up to when I’m not paying attention.

Here’s where you can find my real Instagram page if you’re dying to see the sadly ignored Instagram account of Amylynn Bright. I remembered why I don’t do much with my Instagram page. I have a pathological issue with having my picture taken. You can see why on the Instagram page. Gag!

I think I need a nap.