Radio Silence

I haven't posted much lately.

You may have noticed, if you haven't wandered off in search of other diversions. Perhaps you're coming back here, vainly hoping for an update on The Life and Times of Sarah. More likely, if you're coming back here, you're looking for an update on The Life and Times of Adam and Adam's Mom.

Either way, you've been disappointed. Terribly disappointed.

I've been looking for a job, you see, and so many of the things I want to post are a bit more personal than I'd like a potential employer to see. Don't get me wrong - I don't list my blog on my resume, but there's always the possibility that an enterprising person could decide to check out my website (which he or she would have cunningly discerned from my email address), and since this is about the only thing on there - well, it's really just a matter of time, isn't it?

On the other hand, this blog is a bit of a catharsis for me, and the phone calls, they aren't exactly rolling in. Maybe I'm being overly cautious. Maybe Company with Fabulous Editing Job won't care if I ramble about new mommy fears, or finally get to the analysis of my son's birth that I've been studiously avoiding. More likely, they'll never even look here.

But. What if it's the perfect job? What if they do look? What if they don't like what they see? What if they notice the typos I've never gone back and fixed? (It's fish tank, by the way, not trank. A fish trank would be pretty difficult to administer, I expect.) What if it's this blog that makes the difference between loving my job and waking up each morning dreading another day?

So I'm torn. I could use a catharsis about now. I want to say all these things I've been keeping back, and maybe exorcise a few of my private demons.

But sometimes I think the world is just getting too small. Big Brother - and everyone else - is watching.