Reset

It became increasingly clear to me over the weekend that my last few posts needed to be removed. I was terribly tired of thinking about them, tired of making further explanations and justifications, even if they were only in my head. I felt like they were sitting out there in cyberspace like so much space debris, polluting the universe like defunct old Russian satellites. And no, it wasn't that one angry comment that was the deciding factor. Or rather, maybe because my posts only generated that sole angry comment. Now, if I'd gotten scores of hate mail over the silly issue of puffy couches, I'd feel kinda cool, like I was a kindred blogger with Dooce, and her hysterical post about all the hate comments she received after she riffed on the perceived need for free-range chicken broth. But I am not Dooce, with her millions of site visits per day. I'm just lonely me, over here in my forgotten cubbyhole of the 'net. Which is fine. But one angry comment, versus a hundred, or even fifteen, just felt a little too....personal.

Therefore, the posts are gone. Whew. I feel better already.

I am still in need of a new couch set. I am still frustrated about my inability to find something close to my needs at the usual major furniture retailers. But, I am not going to combine that complaint with my bitching about the inordinate amount of puffy, trashy, Nascar-watchin' folks in my town. I cannot blame that crowd for my furniture problems, much as I really don't need to point out to the world that they live here in the first place. Otherwise, I may as well call my next post "The Sky is Blue."