I don’t have a problem telling you how I feel, about my financial status, or that I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m open. But I do keep secrets, and by law don’t blab what you’ve told me about yourself. And I know what to tell and what not to tell even about myself. I know that the world revolves around each and every one of us, that we all think that we are excruciatingly important, so, I’m selective about timing and choose the receptacles of my verbiage wisely to avoid a collision of universes. I don’t always like to do a lot of talking, so I’m not a narcissistic drain. Why, my ideal is to communicate telepathically. When I do talk, I try to be considerate of other people’s attention spans, and to remember to turn on the TMI filter. But if I’m in emotional pain, I might shit it out at the job to my boss or anybody. When a girl’s gotta vent, a girl’s gotta vent! I met somebody like that today who gushed all over about her issue though I’d only known her a day and a half. I thought, ‘Gee. I sound like that?’
But see, all that blabbing about yourself has pitfalls – I am a wee bit disappointed in myself for blabbing about my blog to ever damn body, because now I can’t write about certain people perchance they should look at my blog. So I’ve messed up the opportunity for a couple of good blog posts. Damn! I could’ve told you all about this kid I want to cougar. But I can’t tell you because the details are very important, and if I told you details, people surrounding the situation would figure out exactly who I was talking about. I also can’t tell you the story about this other person who I’ve renamed “The Little Punk Ass Twerp.” So friends, the moral of the story is, don’t eat your cheese before the eggs have hatched, and I have no idea what this means.