Just binned Facebook.
Cut back on Twitter.
Put phone and iPad to one side (or left them switched off) for longer spells than usual.
I'm afraid I'm one of those weak-willed compulsive sorts. It's all or nothing for me, so when there is fresh information coming up on the feeds then I will look. And look again. Keep checking. It's an illness. The recent Brown Booby overkill has finally made my mind up. If people want to go then it's up to them, if they want to tweet out their success then again, it's their call. But after hundreds - literally - of tweets and retweets it gets repetitive and stale. My own fault, I don't need to look. Same with Brexit. Same with Driven Grouse Shooting. It isn't that I don't care or have an opinion (I do) but I now know how a goose feels being force fed foie gras. What should be a tasty mouthful, full of interest and learning, becomes vomitus. It also steals time, time that could be put to better, more productive tasks.
However, you will be pleased (or dismayed) to learn that my adherence to this blog will stay the same. After all, this stuff isn't forced onto anybody's timeline or pops up unannounced on your screens. You elect to visit. And for that I remain truly grateful.