I like to think of myself as a person who’s fairly regimented; following a daily routine inclusive of satisfied feelings after crossing out responsible line items on my list of life which help keep my world running smoothly and orderly. Having a job and doing it proficiently is one of those line items. My job is 100% commission based. There’s no salary, there’s no draw, there’s no nothing except the commission I generate by consistently busting my ass to bring home the bacon. The algorithm is pretty simple: if I don’t work I don’t get paid.
For the last five business days I can honestly say I wasn’t just fairly regimented, I was incredibly regimented; except the line item I found myself working tirelessly on wasn’t helping push me closer to making my quarterly bonus. In fact, what I was working tirelessly on had absolutely nothing to do with my job. Somehow I had gotten sucked in to the live drama unfolding minute by minute on Instagram about the latest brouhaha in the health and wellness (or alleged lack there of) diet world and culture. I found myself completely enthralled with the battle of the babes as it relates to food guru(s) versus fashion phenom(s).
Apparently this controversy began several weeks ago so I’m definitely late to the
interrogation party. It’s taken me countless hours to make sense of who’s who in this social media space of pandemonium in order to get a real handle on the entire backstory. Truth is I’m still lost and very confused having little to no knowledge how Instagram operates relative to posting “stories” or “going live.” Pictures on the screen move so quickly I can barely keep up; not to mention the writing is so small my eyeglasses, albeit progressive lenses, are working double time to decipher the fine print. I don’t know how to go back to something I was in the middle of reading and I’m petrified to touch my phone for fear of clicking a button that may yield the wrong emoji face popping up in the comments section amidst of a verbal rant in front of over 2,000 viewers.
“Help! I’ve Been Influenced And I Can’t Get Up”
In the last week I have been so wrapped up in following a story which I might add, I had zero skin in the game as I never paid much attention to the so-called diet nor had I ever heard of the now nemesis trying to expose it. To put the vitriol in perspective, think CNN vs. FOX News, the Hatfields vs. the MCoys, the Montagues and the Capulets. Want me to keep going? Okay, how about the Boston Red Sox vs. the New York Yankees, Seinfeld and Newman (“Hello… Newman”) or a [morality] catfight that’s manifested into nothing short of an Alexis Carrington and Krystle style knock-down, drag-out words [and videos] of war Dynasty brawl. From the way things have been going, I will not be a bit surprised if Tanya and Emily end up duking it out in a lily pond somewhere until one of their husbands come to break it up.
Hi. My Name Is Silver Unpolished And I’ve Been Influenced!
It’s no wonder the hot career choice of youngsters these days is that of an online influencer. I’ve clearly been influenced and now I’m following a train wreck I didn’t even care about. Who have I become? I don’t even recognize myself. I’m scouring the Internet in search of untangling a sticky web only to gasp with amazement how the multiple degrees of separation widen deeper and deeper as the story unfolds. Does anyone else need a bulletin board to piece the conspiracy theory together with red string, highlighters and push pins? Does anyone else need a flow chart detailing the cast of characters to keep things straight? Is there such a chart for sale? Emily, do you have a discount code I should use?
The past week has me under the influence so much so I’m now unpolishedly concerned over my own thought process and actions. Who’s the bee lady? Why is everyone wondering where she went? Did she buzz off or is she making honey in her hive? How does she connect to Ingrid? And why am I saying her name as if I know her? I have no clue who she is. Nor Nedi. Do any of these people have last names? How did I end up reading about divorce settlements on the Internet? Why am I now following the Instagram pages of registered dietitians, nutritionists and wellness coaches near and far? Gaslighting? Am I being gaslighted? What’s gaslighting got to do with fiber bars and powder? I thought gaslighting was only something we learned about from Connie Britton’s character in the Bravo series, Dirty John. If you post a green heart emoji does that mean you’re in support of Tanya or not in support? I think I need an intention bracelet; does it come in a variety of colors? Wait, there’s an app on my phone for podcasts? Has it been there all along? How do I find the interview everyone is up in arms about? Why does my adrenaline skyrocket when my phone alerts me Emily is going live?
Truth: While working out with my trainer this week my phone alerted me Emily was going live. I stopped dead in my
deadlift tracks and screeched to my trainer,
“Stop the music! Turn it off!
EMILY. IS. GOING. LIVE!
We need to hear what’s happening!”
Why am I so intrigued? How did some other girl who got booted off Instagram for [alleged] fraud find her way into this story? Why do I care? How do I read Business Insider without having to subscribe? Fuck it, I’ll just subscribe. Could bananas be the other white
meat bread? What actually is the correct pronunciation of guar gum?
Truth: How the hell did a skirt from Revolve wind up at my front door? I’ll tell you why; because I inadvertently “swiped up” on Emily’s Insta page while clicking through her stories and couldn’t resist. In addition, my own little search engine down the social media rabbit hole also prompted me to buy two cashmere sweaters, a pair of sweatpants and a gold bangle bracelet. Those items haven’t arrived yet but I cannot wait for the UPS guy to show up! Yah think I’m influenced? Um, have you seen the Netflix documentary, The Social Dilemma?
I always thought if someone had an unhealthy relationship with food it was called having an eating disorder. I found out this week if you change the word placement you can have disordered eating too. Hmm. It’s the same disease though, right? I also learned Orthorexia is a thing. Do only registered dietitians and/or gym owners have an Inbody scale or can anybody have one? Research indicates some bioelectrical impedance scanners, aka The Bod Pod can cost upwards of forty thousand dollars though less expensive models can range between 5k-9k. Apparently the latter is only a fraction of the cost to book nutritional counseling package(s) one-on-one with Tanya. I also learned “receipts” is social media lingo for digging up shit you might have said in the past either verbally or via text. I’m gonna start using that with my kids; maybe they’ll think I’m cool. “Hey kids, didn’t I ask you to take out the garbage? I’m pretty sure I did. Look here on my phone, I have a receipt to prove it!”
Truth: My boss called me twice this week on my cell phone. Both times I sent him directly to voicemail because I was in the middle of watching Emily turn the floor over to a new ‘victim.’
Truth: In addition to my record high lack of productivity this week in my real job, I also failed epically with a side hustle/passion project I’m involved in. When my writing partner texted to confirm our appointment, this is what she got in return:
JUST TO LET YOU KNOW… Seeing as though I truly have no horse in this race, I must issue myself a mea culpa for spending so much time on the story. Shame on me. I have no one to blame but myself. No longer can I keep up with this frenzy if I want to be able to provide for my kids and put
fiber food on the table. For those of you who continue to follow the mayhem, please feel free to fill me in on the broad strokes and let me know how it all shakes [no pun intended] out! Until I make up for last week’s lost revenue, whether it’s approved or not, I’ll be serving ramen noodles for dinner but at least I’ll be wearing a new skirt. Thanks Emily!