I guess I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.
Mini-rant: I can not stand the “botanical” scent that my shaving cream has, but I’m too cheap to throw it away. I hope the world can forgive my hairiness.
I’m feeling really snarky about something, but I can’t complain about it. One great thing about blogging and Facebook is that it keeps me from ranting about specific people. You never know who might see it. And if I have to hesitate to write something, the question then becomes: should I even be saying this at all?
It’s fine to complain about shaving cream. It’s fine to complain about the nameless faceless person who could be anybody…like the lady at church with the rambunctious tot who gazed lovingly and approvingly at his every antic (fine at the playground, not at church). It’s fine to complain about the anonymous “they” – like the government. But to name names? Neither wise, nor prudent, nor charitable.
So, for example, I can moan about how “The Army” made me move five days after giving birth (all other options either costing a lot of money or forcing separation from my husband and/or support system). But even though I have some very specific gripes about very specific people and their culpability in that matter, I reserve that ranting for my husband. And my sister. And my mother. And my friends.
OK. So blogging and FB do not make me wiser or more prudent or more charitable. I guess it just helps me see how far I have to go.
And for the record, I want to be clear that I do not blame my husband’s boss for making me move with a newborn. I’m pretty sure he felt awful about the whole thing.
And I’m not just saying that because I’m FB friends with his wife. Honestly.