Friday, October 14, 2011
Is blogging therapeutic?
Being "nice" meant that I'd stand by, seemingly mild and pleasant, while someone was spouting the most inflammatory, despicable garbage. Of course, I would always beat myself up afterwards for being such a spineless wimp. And worse, I'd carry around a load of rage at the offender--but Lord knows, my demeanor was always mild and pleasant.
I'm now in my 70's and find that all the years of Minnesota Nice have added up to being a big nothing. As my car-buying experiences of the past year have shown, I am a spineless wimp. It's obviously stamped on my forehead--car dealers take one look at me and know they can walk all over me without fear of objection.
It seems that the only thing that blogging has taught me is that Minnesota Nice only leads to depression and self-loathing. I'm tired of sitting down to blog and not having anything positive to say, but when I vent my feelings, I feel guilty about it. I read other blogs full of insights, energy and peaceful pursuits and wonder what's wrong with me.
Maybe I'll have to ask one of those car dealers.