I almost never blog about work. When I do, it’s either the most innocuous of passing mentions, or it’s about something that’s at least several years in the past. I think that’s wise. I don’t blog anonymously, and the potential for grief is just too great.
However, I certainly understand the temptation to do so. Even the best jobs present occasional spleen-venting opportunities, and the drive to publicly tell one’s side can be strong. Even after initially inflamed passions fade, though, there’s another generator of desire to blog about it that I’ve only just discovered (or perhaps that I’ve only just been able to articulate). Dig:
I think by most counts, I’m a prolific blogger. Now I’ve never cared anything about blogging every single day without fail, mostly because I’ve seen too many bloggers commit to such and then wind up throwing substandard crap up just so they can say they posted for the day. (I’m certainly not claiming I’ve never thrown substandard crap up, but I do feel like there’s probably less of it because I don’t have a post-every-day-by-God mentality. Got me? OK.)
So being prolific means you start thinking about your day-to-day life in regimented ways, because you always have a dragnet out for things to blog about. It also means you might train yourself to break down a complex topic, not only to figure out how to write about it but maybe also to help sort out how you feel about it.
And that’s been an ongoing frustration I’ve had with what I’m not going to tell you happened at work last week: I’m having trouble shutting those subroutines off. My mind is still acting like I’m going to write about it. Worse, those subroutines are massive resource hogs. I haven’t figured out how to run them on something else simultaneously. So part of what I’m trying to do about it is give you a post about it that’s not really a post about it and see if that helps.
You just read it. We’ll see.
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Write it out and then click “delete.” The urge will be gone, along with the potential for unpleasant repercussions.
There are some things that it’s just not worth taking the risk publishing.
Thanks for the advice, Kelly. And I’ll be clearer: there is absolutely no chance I’ll write about it in public. I have no conflict about that. 🙂
Well, I was more than happy to read what you didn’t write about. Tell me at lunch! 🙂
Terri, ask me again in six months or so. (Not about lunch; we can do that sooner.) 🙂