Sucker. This post has nothing to do with The Silence of the Lambs. (Well, beyond the fact that that fantastic line popped into my head yesterday and the only way to purge it was apparently to use it for the title of a post.)
I read a lot of blogs. WordPress has replaced Facebook for me as my no. 1 time-sucker. I have this to report back: a lot of people a) apologize for not having posted in a while, and b) say not to worry that they’ll be away…because they promise to post while away.
This is a mystery to me. I feel more inclined to apologize when I do post. And I am going on vacation next week, and I probably will post while away…and I’m sorry for that as well.
Herein lies the mystery. It would never occur to me that anyone, anywhere would actually notice my absence. Here. Not at home (I’d like to think that if I didn’t show up at home for four or five days, my husband would get curious). But here? I write nothing of importance and I’m not even consistently funny. Spoiler alert: neither are you. (Except perhaps the handful of bloggers I listed here.) But, what do I know. Perhaps you do get love-letters from your followers pleading with you to grace them with your literary spoils. Maybe you do get chirped at from the baby birds wanting to be fed. Implausible, but okay.
Most of the time I feel a little whorish posting my links on Facebook in a
shameless shameful attempt to get more people to read my crap. And I’m grateful when people give it the time of day. I never feel apologetic for not bombarding you with even more mediocre shit.
There is no actual reason for this post other than the fact that by the time I scanned across the third blogger within an hour with this mysterious sense of self-importance, my huge green rage monster emerged and wanted to write about it. Sometimes, if it wasn’t for being a bitch, I’d have no personality at all.