I know, I know – this column isn’t about “House of Cards,” which I’m sure must be so upsetting. Believe me, dear reader, when I say I am just as upset as you are. I still don’t have a Netflix account, but have no fear because come summer I will be Netflix-ing up a storm in between work and the beach.

Writing about a show I have never seen is something I will never do. While I could look up long recaps of episodes and try to catch up to the second season, the fans of the show will know I’m not a true “House of Cards” fanatic. A teacher once told me, “Write about what you know.” This is what I know.

Recently at the gym while sweating it out on the treadmill, I came across the show “Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” on the E! network, and 6 miles later, I still had no idea why this show was on the air. The show follows a couple of rich socialites as they go shopping, party and vacation in the most extravagant locations.

The format of “Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” is set up as an Instagram account, transitioning between scenes with captions and pictures that the cast has posted during that day of filming. Their problems are minute, from Roxy Sowlaty’s parents “cutting her off” to Dorothy Wang’s hunt for the perfect apartment with the right “selfie lighting.”

Money is of no object for these young adults who are still living off their parents’ bank accounts and spending like there’s no tomorrow. I cannot judge these people for their upbringing, but I can bring to light a question that has been burning in my mind since I first saw this show: When did we become so obsessed with ourselves?

Riding my bike to class every day, I almost hit at least 10 people, all of whom are looking down at their cellphones and not looking up at what is going on around them. Jerry Seinfeld recently did his standup routine on “The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon” and talked about how we can’t survive without our phones. We have to always be in contact with people.

“You want to feel a hard rectangle in your pocket, and it better be juiced up. It can’t be on empty,” Seinfeld said. He was right. If you look around the classroom, almost every student has a cellphone on their desk or is trying to hide one. In my ECON 101, class my teacher likes to call students out when she catches them looking at their phones, and about five people respond, “Who, me?”

“Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” may not be an accurate picture of kids today because none of us is buying thousands of dollars’ worth of champagne, but it’s dead on when it comes to Instagram. As you scroll down the feed, take a look at how many pictures are just selfies. My personal favorite are the “bathroom selfies” when you know someone couldn’t possibly have gotten a friend to take a picture of themselves, and instead you now know what brand of toilet paper that person buys.

So is Instagram to blame with our self-obsession as of late? Before cameras, great men erected statues of themselves to show the world how powerful they were, not to show the world that they were having a great hair day.

I am a frequent user of Instagram, and I take embarrassing Snapchat photos just like everyone else, but I’m starting to get tired of seeing my own face. Memories used to be captured in the brain, not your memory card.

My recommendation for you is not to watch “Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” unless you want to be bored out of your mind. Instead, tear yourself away from your Netflix account, and leave your phone at home. I know it’s scary, but you’re going to be all right.