I love writing about my life every day. I sort of saw it as talking to friends. But after the relentlessly cruel comments yesterday, I see that people hate read. I see that not everyone is on my side. I guess I knew it, but it didn’t really register, you know?
That makes it not fun anymore. It kind of makes me feel sick. I kind of started to wonder if I was an unlikable person. Then of course I remembered there are even people who don’t like Tom Hanks and I felt better. Still. This all feels unsafe now.
(And also, what kind of person wants to hate read? Why make yourself angrier? I don’t see the fun in that, but then again I listen to Dr. Laura. I guess I’m people’s Dr. Laura.)
I thought it over last night, and some more this morning, and I’ve decided to stop writing for awhile.
I’ve made some real friends through this experience; most of you have been really great. I can’t begin to count all the good things that’ve come from writing to you for 10 years. Thank you for all the nice things you’ve done, and for being a part of my life.
Yesterday after work I schlepped out to the country, and let’s talk about how much I want to move to the country. I just love it there, even though I spend much of my time there thinking about snakes and ticks. Do you ever just go somewhere and find yourself happier? That’s me in the country. I know for others it’s fancy places such as Rome or Cakes and Turquoise or whatever that tropical place is called. Continue reading “June visits a perfect puppy. Conundrums.”→
First of all, stupid Firefox (or, as cute Faithful Reader Tee once called it, Foxfire) updated and now I can’t get on WordPress. Have I mentioned how much I hate products that capitalize words in the middle of their name? FuckOff. EatShit. StopIt.
But really, Foxfire is all, “BLOCKED! THIS IS AN UNSAFE SITE.” Oh my god no it’s not.
Today, I was supposed to go to work having fasted, and have blood drawn for our health insurance thing at work. Then 40 minutes later, I was supposed to go to my new doctor and have even more blood drawn for my initial visit with him in a week, unless of course he dies or quits before then. Or I die of italicizing.