Estelle was in a good mood that morning, her tea was the perfect temperature and her floral flannel pajamas felt warm against her calves. Her house-mates had gone to work and the house was quiet.
A rare moment for her to hear her own heart-beat. There was nothing to do and no expectations. She was in a good mood and it came naturally to click ‘like’ on everyone’s statuses and updates on Facebook.
Like – the photo of the melted cheese sunrise that Renee Summers from high-school uploaded. Clearly gloating about her early bird discipline. Usually this would annoy Estelle but today she admired the girl she had once shared English class with.
Like – ‘Happy Hump Day!’ A second cousin. Yes, it was good that it was mid-week wasn’t it?
Like – ‘Should I have Nutri-grain or eggs for breakfast?’ Estelle empathised with Xavier Goodes’ indecision, as it was something she suffered with herself. But really Nutri-grain? Surely that was something only hormonal 14-year-old boys chomped through while simultaneously spraying Lynx under their pubescent pits? Xavier was 38.
Like – a picture of a fat, fluffy cat wearing a top hat.
Like – ‘Be Kind, everyone is fighting their own battles.’ So true, especially of the Facebook poster Aunty Meryl, who had happily declared at the last family Christmas that at 52 she still menstruated each month and as a side-note she loved G-strings. Aunty Meryl was not receiving so much kindness from her family as late.
Like – an article about this year’s Mile Franklin winner from a girl from Brunswick. Estelle was currently reading Enid Blyton’s Secret Seven but she appreciated the idea of literature as much as the next snobby arts degree student.
Like ‘Get into Aldi for bananas, $1.99 a kilo!!!!’
Estelle put down her phone, perhaps her generosity had gone too far. Although she made a mental note to pop in that afternoon because, well, banana smoothies…
After her morning ritual of scrolling through other people’s fragmented lives Estelle wondered what she should have for breakfast. The sun burnt its way through the window and the yellow rays stung the corners of her eyes. It was after 10 now, the sun looked like a light had come on it the sky. Now that she was updated on her feed Estelle felt a strange sense of hopelessness. She checked her email and the phone beeped in her palm, but it was only an email from Nature, Beauty and Health who reminded her to eat more garlic (IMMUNITY BOOSTER!) and asked her if she’d entered the competition to win a set of spoons (FAIR-TRADE JARRAH!)
Estelle wondered what people did in the mornings pre-Facebook. She tried to remember herself not having that little screen with statements and photos and silly You-Tube clips. She tried to remember what she had for breakfast previously, but it seemed too long ago, another life-time ago. She got up from the seat and put the kettle on. While it was boiling she picked up her phone, pressed on the blue icon and pulled the browser down with her bitten-down fingers.