Okay, yesterday afternoon's post was a bit too whiney so I have now made it go "poof" bye bye. I was floating the idea, maybe venting a little, and it was too much even for me. One of my commenters on Facebook said something (very sweet) and it made me realize how pathetic the "don't you hate it when" post was. If you weren't lucky enough to read it, good. :) If you did read it, you have my apologies and this little piece of very nice baby swiss cheese to go with the w(h)ine.
I've gotten used to there being very few comments on here. I know there are a few readers, and thank those folks for putting up with me. But now that these blogs are properly importing to Facebook (I had set it up months ago to do so but it was only importing it for me to see because of a clicked privacy box-- kind of useless to import it that way) I need to remember to not be so dramatic.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Post Poofage
This is a less than private venue now that I'm not anonymous so no more venting, or too serious of whining. I had a trying day of chasing four year olds (who would NOT nap) yesterday and was just crabby is all.
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3 comments:
I didn't think it was whiney. In fact I very much related. Those moments may seem trivial in the grand scheme of life but they're painful as you're going through them.
I can't imagine having my blog post through to Facebook but I get why you would be more select in what you post. Family members and a few friends read my blog and that has made me more careful.
Hey, I'm with you. I have all these venues, and keeping them straight is a challenge. Especially since my readership is complicated. I unleash my inner beeitch on the Twitter, though. Because it is the most underground of them all.
And it wasn't so bad. I saw it as more of a philosophical "think" piece :)
I like Sly's tweets. The venom comes out.
I read the original post as well but I get confused by stuff like that; it seems you're talking to someone directly, so I try to not pay much attention to personal things like that. Oh, and I can identify running around ONE 5 yr. old; I can't imagine 2. Fugget it.
I'm taking the little lady to see Dan Zanes tonight; she'll be crabby by the time the concert is over and we're back home (10 pm-ish); she doesn't nap anymore so you can imagine what 15 hrs. awake does to a 5 yr. old. Yeee-hawww!
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