I wrote this truly fantastic, poignant, funny and contemplative post yesterday afternoon at work. But due to spell check, pop-up blocker and a slip of a finger, it was gone. Lesson learned; I will never again blog at work.
Karma works it magic once again.
The fantastic lost post contemplated my prior week of mis-communication where either I said too much, too little, or nothing at all. Hence losing my voice on Saturday afternoon and be it Tuesday night still sounding like a throaty sex operator cum Peter Brady.
Now I'm just feeling like a mime who is desperate to wipe off the white mask, black eyeliner, and red lips and open his mouth in order to tell people to "fcuk off." I really don't want to tell people to fcuk off, but the frustrating is growing. I really just want to say things like "good morning," and "hey wasn't Sandra Oh so cute when she accepted her Golden Globe?"
So, blog lost, frustration growing, mashed potatoes growing cold, I'll part with this: It's hard to find yourself, when you can't even find your voice.