Yesterday, I crafted the perfect Instagram story: I snapped a few artfully angled photos, wrote some quippy captions, added the appropriate number of Boomerangs and emojis, and then I sat back and tapped through the whole thing, admiring my little movie. And then I watched it again, trying to view it as a third-party observer would, looking for flaws. And then, for good measure, I watched it again. And again. By the end of the day, I had flipped through my story almost a dozen times, perking up at each new comment and view count like a proud stage mom.