Waiting For Hubby

Might Be An Interesting Post, Might Not, You've Got A 50/50 Chance Here.

Hubby should be here some time in the middle of the night. I find myself waiting up for him, the need to cuddle with the love of my life does that to me. Of course, I always miss my dear when he is gone, but his return is all that much sweeter.

I realize this space has pretty much been dead air lately, and I do have a reason for that, honest I do, and it is not an excuse really, but a real reason. Want to hear it? Sure you do. All right, I have come to the realization lately that I am an angry, petty, and sometimes an unforgiving blankety blank blank. Demons. And it all boils down to one thing, arrogant pride. I don't know why I get on this high and mighty self important thing, but I do it every so often and it goes from there. It is so silly and stupid, but when I am in that mood, I don't want to blog because I am afraid of sounding more insane then I probably already do.

This arrogant pride of mine causes me all sorts of trouble. It allows me to think no one has the right to speak to me in a less than polite manner, it gives me delusions that I am somehow worthy of respect. It makes me think this endeavor is just a cry for attention for my ego, and that is just pathetic in my eyes. I don't want this space to be about that. I want it to be something that entertains, tells a story, and records the things in my life that I think maybe my daughter might get a kick out of some day. I want to be honest here, to say things I can't say just anywhere, but I stop at that because I think, this isn't just any where, this is something that can be viewed by the general public at large, and even people who have authority in my life.

No one outside of my extremely close circle of family and friends even knows about this blog, and most of them don't even read it. I would die of embarrassment if some people I know found this blog even on accident. So what does that say? I think it says, there are people in my life I have blocked out. I don't understand people who blog using their own name, even as an anonymous blogger I worry that I will be found out by people I don't want to share my thoughts on things with, but I seem to have no problem sharing with total strangers. It feels slightly dishonest, but I tell myself, I have no obligation to tell anybody anything I think at all.

It is somewhat of a conundrum if you ask me, and I find it extremely stifling. I spend too much time wondering what if I write something wrong, should I say this, can I say that? It is ridiculous. I think it stems mostly from my fear of losing my job for writing something someone doesn't like. I ask myself, "is it worth it?" My answer has always been, "no" it is not. This is how political correctness silences all conversations. Everything is off limits. We can't talk about politics, religion, race, sex, anything. We are left to carry on silly blathering conversations about the weather, food, and gardening. All interesting subjects of course, but still there are times these topics get old too.

Don't get me wrong here, I speak up all the time with people. I throw caution to the wind, and voice my opinion. I'm getting better at it, but that is talking, this is a written record, that is different to me somehow. Gosh I sound like a paranoid nut case. I don't know what I am so darn afraid of. Sorry to get all mental about stuff. This is a lousy excuse for a post I know, but someone else must be thinking about these things too. Well, maybe not. I just know at some point I have got to get the nerve to talk about things other than my mother's love of pie, and my overwhelming laundry piles, otherwise, I might as well give up this effort altogether.

Sheesh, what a depressing post. I'll be back when once I decide to be an adult and speak my mind, and damn the consequences, which might be some time in the near future. Hugs.