I was going to make a post about women who wear dressing
gowns (robes to Americans) in mixed company. I had a rationale all lined up,
but decided that, however sound my reasoning, conventional opinion would leave
me open to the suspicion of prudishness.
I was going to make a post about the utterly weird nature of
my blog visits today. I had the facts and figures all lined up, but decided
that the explanation would be both trite and involved, and would leave me open
to the suspicion of paranoia.
I was going to make a post about the lack of anticipated
communication today. I had all the examples lined up, but decided that, however
much they strained the concept of coincidence, it would leave me doubly open to
the suspicion of paranoia.
OK, I’m paranoid. I need a hobby. Or a film contract for my
book. Or a budgerigar.
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