wimp

As my digital and analog lives increasingly intertwine, I find myself ever more frequently caught in the classic blogger’s dilemma: when posting about someone, how much should a blogger take into account whether that someone is likely to read the post?

Over the years I’ve been blogging, I’ve tried out any number of ballsy approaches to that problem, from posts that laid it all on the line, consequences be damned, to those that altered just enough detail to maintain plausible deniability should angry confrontations ensue. (And ensue they certainly did.)

By now, however, I’m too overbooked and overstressed to live that dangerously. Instead, I mainly skirt such perilous topics. And, frankly, I feel like a wuss for it. Because, just this morning, I have all sorts of post-worthy things to say about:

  • A really, comically bad date last night.
  • Running into a recent ex on the street.
  • A date this very evening about which I’m nervously thrilled.

Sadly, fair readers, I’m pansying out on them all. If I weather this month’s brutal work-related stresses, I promise to return to my old tricks. Until then, you’ll have to content yourselves with simply letting your feral imaginations run wild.