But I'm not going to talk about weird stuff today. In fact, I'm not talking about much of anything today, but I'm sure you won't mind.
And since "you" currently is a big no one except possibly me and that one creepy old guy who sits on his couch all day in just his undies and randomly trolls the internet for nude photos of young girls and for blogs to flame.
If you are neither of these things, I congratulate you and offer you my sincere thanks for making it even this far in this post, let alone past the title.
But that's beside the point.
Whenever I get a new account, regardless of what it's for, I feel the need to immediately fill it with useless details or posts, or to immediately use it for its intended purpose, in order to keep from feeling like I have this great wall of blank white space staring at me. (Sometimes, if I can, I'll change the background to blue or green or some other "happy" color to feel accomplished, but as this really isn't all that great of an improvement from the blank white space, it doesn't work very often.)
And that's what this post is - a way to keep from feeling like a failure at life who has just this great, empty, white space staring her straight in the eye, laughing.
Because trust me. It laughs. It laughs, and laughs and laughs and laughs until you feel endlessly guilty for not doing anything about it. And then eventually you start to forget about it entirely, and that endless mocking laughter turns into this tiny, easily ignored voice in the back of your mind.
And then, when you're least expecting it, something reminds you that you started that account months ago and weren't you going to do something about that and it's like it's laughing at you all over again.
My low self-esteem can't deal with that.
Besides, posting this is sort of a social experiment as well. I'm not going to tell anybody I personally know about this blog, or use any of the "typical" marketing strategies for blogs. (I may not even tell MYSELF about this. How's that for a paradox?)
Have at it, little invisible bunnies of the internet. (I'm sure if anyone at all is reading this, it will be not so many bunnies as big, vicious, angry sharks, ready to tear this post and me into pieces until there's ink and blood all over my hardwood floor and I'm too wounded to even call for an ambulance. (Just kidding...I don't have a hardwood floor. (And even if I did, I wouldn't let myself bleed all over it... (Well, not without cleaning it up later on.))))
