I wrote the post below a long time ago. It was sitting (for obvious reasons) in my draft folder but I chose to publish it this morning. I wanted to post something that didn’t have to do with chronic pain. But what I wrote is painful. I hate it. I want to delete it, but I can’t.
Every time I delete a post I hate (which I’ve done twice), I feel like a chicken-shit who cares too much what every one thinks. And I so want to be one of those brave people who just doesn’t care…but as you can see, I’m not.
So let me just say that I hate it.
Instead, I’m going to post a picture of my six (!) year-old daughter that I think is so much more enjoyable.
It’s sunny and warm here in JCrewviille today. Enjoy your day.
Small Town. Small Times. 
Why would you delete? It’s a good, quirky, funny post. It’s a snapshot of how you felt that moment of that day, and if a blog isn’t good for that, what is it good for?
Besides, if you deleted, then you’d be one of those people in #10 and you wouldn’t be able to attend your own last birthday party. And I’d miss you there.
(Of course I’m invited to your last birthday party. I am an awesome birthday party guest. I sing and everything.)
Dude – You are so invitied to the party. Of course you sing – that doesn’t surprise me. Re: #10, you’re so right — how did I miss that? Must have been all that cake.
i am proud of you for posting anyway. alas, I too have a slew of unposted posts that i am saving up for when i am brave enough to say it
I look forward to reading them.
Please post it. I enjoy your writing very much. I realize you don’t know me, or many of the readers who stop by. And those you do know, will love you anyway. We all win.
I enjoy your comments very much. Thank you for them.
I for one am glad that you posted it as I love your writing. Great photo of your daughter. Happy birthday to her.
Thanks, Karen!
Wait — she’s six now? How long have I been gone?!
Apparently as long as I have. She’s actually rounding the corner to six and a half — and she’s the baby!
I’m glad you didn’t. I like to know that other people are real.