Occasionally I go back and read old blog posts and I’ll cringe—usually at the wording I used or the fact that I thought the topic was worth blogging about. Sometimes the cringing even makes me a little sweaty and anxious-y, and I’m tempted to dig up the original post in Blogger and delete it. However, I don’t delete old posts because you’re not supposed to do that. Don’t you know anything? It’s history, baby.
(Or something else that makes me sound like I’m contributing generously to our ever-improving world…)
Also, finding super-old posts in Blogger takes a super-long time and I’m super-lazy when it comes to finding super-old posts, unless, of course, there’s a misspelling or too many commas or a straight quote mark where there should be a curly one. That’s when I move mountains to fix it.
(Ha ha ha. I make myself laugh when I imply that I’m that concerned about perfect spelling and punctuation.)
(Oh, shut up. Humor me.)
Tonight I ran across a post from 2008 in which I tell about 13 stupid or clumsy things I did. When you put all 13 things together and read them at once, it’s kind of a wonder that I’m still alive. And that post was written a year before this happened and this happened within two weeks of each other.
There’s stuff I never even bother mentioning, too.
(You’re welcome for that, by the way.)
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