Twittering on

Bugger.

I’ve gone and done what I swore I would never do.

I’ve got a Twitter account.

And I have no bloody clue what I am supposed to do with it.  I appear to be following some people.  Hopefully not in a dodgy way since I have spent a fair proportion of my professional life advising people that this constitutes harassment and is likely to get them into trouble.

And some people are following me.  I am torn between a certain childlike pleasure (yes I am clearly both needy and easily pleased) and panic – what do they want of me?  Am I expected to perform?

I am not actually sure I am capable of saying anything remotely noteworthy in less than 140 characters.  I barely manage to get my message across in less than 140 pages.

And what exactly is the deal with the hashtags and ampersats?  Everyone has an @ attached to them.  I am now imagining people running around like the little characters in The Sims, with glowing ampersats floating over their heads and indicating their state of mind.  In fact, I have that same slightly panicky feeling about my Twitter account as I used to get about my little Sims people, that disproportionate sense of responsibility and faint twinge of guilt about not dedicating more time to keeping my Sims alive and well. 

Thomas and Ben’s aunty, @Lucy and her friend, @Sophie, tried to give me a swift introduction to the world of Twitter.  Like a pair of backseat drivers they shouted at me from the sofa, directing me to “trend” and “tweet”.

I tweeted.  I think I trended, but I can’t be completely sure as I was distracted by the fact that my first ever tweet had a spelling mistake in it.

#Fail