I sit before you a broken man. My job, my house, my car, even my family… every luxury I enjoyed but a week ago, has vanished.

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It all began yesterday morning. I sat in my cubicle at work, refreshing Twitter, when I noticed a peculiar difference in the layout. Negligible to most, but not to me. The sharp corners I had come to love and expect from the website of Twitter had suddenly become round and curvy. The profile photos… no longer in that familiar square we all loved, but a wretched circle. The font. O, the font… My eyes could not believe themselves.

I was upset. Anger shot through my body in red hot fury. I could practically feel the steam billowing from my ears. I was livid. I began to yell.

“What have they done? The devils! What have they done to my beloved Twitter?” I shouted, as loud as my voice would project.

“What have they done? The devils! What have they done to my beloved Twitter?” I shouted, as loud as my voice would project.

My cubicle mate was startled. I began to explain to him how Twitter had changed its layout. I told him how Twitter always changes something about their layout that adds little- nay, COMPLICATESits functionality. I explained to him, at length, the conversation lines, the @name no longer appearing in the replies, the algorithm no longer showing tweets chronologically, but tailored in some incomprehensible fashion that made no sense to anybody.

He was scared. I hadn’t realized it, but I was now an inch from his face, and clenching my fists in what was apparently misconstrued as a “threatening” manner.

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As security was escorting me out of the office I could not contain my rage. I loudly explained to the security guard that the icon row on the bottom no longer has a profile button, and that now you have to click an icon in the top left corner and then an additional button to see your own profile. He did not seem to care, amazingly.

As I was driving home, I fired off several tweets to complain about the layout changes, @ mentioning Jack Dorsey in each one. It was then that I noticed the number of likes and retweets refreshes in real time. I was entranced. Too entranced. As I watched the like number on my tweet climb from three to four, my car barreled into the living room of my own home, toppling it completely. It was at this time that I remembered I didn’t have house insurance.

As I climbed, bloodied, out of the wreckage, I noticed my wife pull up in her car behind me. I very loudly and logically explained to her that the wreck, and also my firing, was solely the fault of Twitter. I told her that I would never had crashed the car into our living room had Twitter simply left the reply arrow in the design in favor of the horrible new speech bubble.

As she was packing her bags to "go away for awhile," I began re-explaining that if Twitter had simply left the moments icon on the bottom row where it was easily accessible, I would still have my job and our house would still be standing. But she did not seem to care about the new Twitter layout the way I did. I watched her leave, but did not stop yelling. That is when the police arrived.

My friends, I write to you from the bench in front of the local police station. I just spent the last of my savings on my own bail, and this large vanilla Dunkaccino from an adjacent Dunkin Donuts. It has been quite the day.

And you know what? As I sit here on this public bench, sipping on my large novelty coffee, my entire life having slipped through my hands like sand on the beach, I realized something: the new Twitter update actually isn't that bad!

In fact, now that I'm used to it, I think it's actually pretty good!

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