In which I make a note to self

Occasionally I have to remind myself that what I write and put out into the world is not primarily meant to generate comments. Just because people don't fall over themselves to comment on my witterings does not mean it doesn't get read. And even if it did mean that, what does it matter? I ramble and muse and witter and occasionally throw out stuff I think is neat or thought-provoking. Sure, it can sting a bit when I've put something online and it just disappears without a ripple. But guess what? I still think it was something worth writing about. Sometimes, I have an audience of one. And that's perfectly okay.

So...comments are nice. But they're not the reason I write stuff down.

And now: shepeherd's pie for dinner. Yum.

In which I make a note to self

Occasionally I have to remind myself that what I write and put out into the world is not primarily meant to generate comments. Just because people don't fall over themselves to comment on my witterings does not mean it doesn't get read. And even if it did mean that, what does it matter? I ramble and muse and witter and occasionally throw out stuff I think is neat or thought-provoking. Sure, it can sting a bit when I've put something online and it just disappears without a ripple. But guess what? I still think it was something worth writing about. Sometimes, I have an audience of one. And that's perfectly okay.

So...comments are nice. But they're not the reason I write stuff down.

And now: shepeherd's pie for dinner. Yum.