Louise and I were talking about the blog tonight and her verdict is; sometimes you just seem like a single dad, sometimes you just plain get it wrong but most of the time you just sound like a chronic manic depressive, fucked off with everything and thoroughly fed up with the world.
Then she admits to me that sometimes, when she knows I've had a bad few days she'll open the blog up at work and just laughs at the misery. Laughs in a good way obviously. She knows me too well. But it's always good, she says, to see my take on things after I've sat down and thought about it for a little bit.
Of course, in the interests of not putting myself into too bad a light, I really should point out that all is good in life most of the time, but how bloody fed up would you get with a series of blog posts talking about how lovely everything is, how gorgeous the world is, how everything is rosy etc etc. Plus, when I'm in a foul mood I'll often retreat into words, whereas when I'm in a great mood I'll often be doing other stuff.
it's like keeping an un-secret diary. I wonder if anyone can still get the thrill of reading someone's diary and knowing they shouldn't in a world which encourages us to present and have read our every thought. It sounds like a good form of relationship counciling tho' - without actually having to do the councilling.
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