28th
Vague Optomism!
I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom in my underwear. I’m not wearing clothes because taking them off was all I thought about on the drive home from work, which required my car to cut through 94-degree, marshmallow-thick air. It’s not the heat, but the humidity that kills me.
Nevermind the A/C has been running all day to keep our McMansion at a comfortable 71 degrees or that a powerful floor fan is pointed directly at me. I’m not taking chances.
Life is great right now, but I’ve copped this stinginess about discussing Those Things Which Shan’t Be Blogged Or Discussed Really, For That Matter, Until They Come To Fruition. Maybe that’s a reflection of my job, which involves coordinating corporate communications projects for sometimes skittish clients.
On the other hand, there’s a reason I maintain a personal, unprofessional blog with my name in the domain. It’s because I (at least claim I) don’t care about separating the personal and profane from the dry cleaned and crew-cut.
This site, my Twitter feed, basically my whole personal brand (forgive me the use of such a douchey term) is an experiment in converging the many masks we wear to separate who we are in class and at work from who we are on karaoke night. Fuck. There, see?
I figure if I can blog and tweet publicly about sitting in my room, in my underwear (I suppose I could do worse) and maintain a professional career under the same name, then I have a compelling argument against those who suffer Facebook paranoia.
Then again, there’s no sense talking things up before they come to a boil, so it suffices to say my life is awesome.
Although I was told today my checking account is overdrawn. Feel free to help with that.
