My wife doesn't read this
Estimated Days Until Blogger Burnout: 8
 
 
I'm sitting here wondering why I haven't mentioned my new little side-project here to Mrs. Pops.  I think I'm beginning to get a handle on it.
 
I've known Mrs. Pops for very close to half my life (we intially met while sophomores in high school) and it's only now that I've gotten her convinced that I'm actually a with-it, together dude.  She thinks I'm funny and good natured and nice and handsome (one assumes).
 
Of course this is a complete lie.  I'm actually quite nasty, cynical and ill-tempered.  I'm judgmental, maddeningly idiosyncratic, I use four-syllable words where two syllables will do and I have a tendency to ramble incoherently.
 
But that's just in this text version.  In full 3D walking-talking-breathing mode I'm much more interesting and that's what she gets to see.  For now I think what I'm doing is using this place (this "bucket" if you will) as a dumping ground for everything else.  I can get my snark on here and be pleasant and even-handed and accepting in real life.  It's quite therapeutic, now that I think about it.
 
I suppose eventually I'll let her know about this thing, but only when she catches me typing on it and demands to know what the hell is so goddamn important that it has all my attention while the baby is on the floor behind me trying to get the top off a bottle of Drano.
 
For now I can just feel guilt and shame and express it in a cathartic way to an anonymous public, the way normal, healthy people should.
 
 
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 9.6
 
 
Pops

- posted by Pops @ 9:55 PM