I’m sorry Twitter, but I’m afraid that it is over for us. No, it’s not you, it’s me. Why did I ever think that I would have time to be with you more than once a week? Because I totally don’t. And besides, my life is completely boring and uninteresting. I’m just dragging you down, giving you a bad name. You’re way too cool for me. Nobody wants to read about me finding spit-up in my cleavage when I undress to take a shower. Or that I breastfed in a Zaxby’s booth, because, hello? What other choice did I have? I couldn’t let Emily starve, and her cries would have drawn more attention than the blanket covering us did. And how can I possibly update in 140 characters or less? It’s not your fault, I guess I just have too much to say type. In the rare occasion that I do do something exciting, I have another place where I can write all about it. And I can use as many characters as I need. So this is for the best. You have a long life ahead of you, and I am sure that you will find someone to replace me. Someone who is adventurous and fun, and maybe even famous like yourself. Besides, you will be too busy for me if that reality show deal goes through. So don’t cry. We can still be friends.