Facing Facebook

This is bad.  This is really bad to admit.
  
The other day I opened Facebook. I rarely, rarely open Facebook. I was happy I remembered which email and password I used. I don't even know how it opened to the page it did but there were two Friend requests which I confirmed and then, and then there was an endless scroll of people people people and MORE people.  

People I knew from high school, work, the neighborhood.  

People who knew people that I knew.  

People who were the friends of my kids and friends of their friends and relatives.  Relatives I knew, and relatives that were relatives of relatives.  

My mother-in-law's sister's second husband's grown children.  I had heard of them but never seen them and here they were.  

People I truly did not know and didn't even know the connection.  My brother-in-law's daughter's acting contacts.  Clients of my nephew's girlfriend.   

After seven minutes I stopped scrolling because whenever I thought I'd gotten to the end of the list, the computer would re-calibrate and more faces and more faces would appear.  

Where would it end?  What was I to do with all these people?

It scared me.

I'm starting my own business and I should welcome all these contacts.  I should post some status on Facebook that declares to the world (or at least the world that exists on Facebook which happens to be quite a lot of world) that I am an independent contractor seeking work.  

I’m the Jill-of-all-trades you’re looking for to figure out how to 
     market that product, 
     facilitate that board retreat, 
     consensually craft that mission statement, 
     rewrite that newsletter.  I’m your gal! 

I should be on Linked In.  And Twitter and Tumblr and — 

I should. I should. I should.  And — and — and — 

I’m dreading it.