It was a darn-near perfect day.
There was good company and burgers and badminton. The sun was shining, the air was filled with laughter and music and positive energy. It was the kind of day where you forget about everything else, including work and strife and problems.
Now, for anyone who knows me, that last one might be hard to swallow. After all, I have at least 8 Twitter accounts and often joke that mine comprise about 92.3 percent of all tweets sent out into the universe.
Yet this day was just that awesome.
It had started early, with a battle cry being sounded when we found out that visitors were on their way and would be arriving in less than five hours. The problem? Our home was looking more like Grey Gardens than the “mountain retreat” we nicknamed it.
For the next three hours, we had the tunes pumping as we dusted, washed, polished and, when all else failed, stuffed things in closets. By the time our guests arrived, the place looked downright upright… as long as you didn’t look too closely!
What followed was a fantastic afternoon of conversation, games, food and laughter.
“Remember when you were in second grade and almost burned down the house trying to make candles?”
Yeah, it was that kinda afternoon.
Late that night, I finally got around to checking my phone… only to find I’d received a plethora of messages from various folks.
“Are you okay?” was the general message, with a few getting more to the heart of the matter: “You haven’t sent a tweet all day! Are you dead?”
Of course, the exact opposite was true: I was doing the kind of living that actually makes it easy to forget the cyberuniverse we spend so much time in. We were having so much fun that I failed to tweet, update, check in or Instagram any of it.
Yet somehow, the world continued turning.
And while I know that more likely than not, the next time I’m having a great time, I’ll probably pause to tell the world about it or share a picture of it via some form of social media, I kinda hope that maybe I won’t.
Because life ain’t worth living — let alone tweeting — when you’re dead.