I'm a terrible person.
No, seriously. I'm a good person too, but how often do we let the good outshine the bad? Mussolinin might have had a wicked sense of humor or been really into wildlife rescue, but you'd never hear about it. All you'd (still) hear about is dictator this, and tyrant that.
I'm not coming out as a dictator/tyrant, so don't get your hopes up.
Exactly what kind of terrible person am I? Oh no, you have to figure that out for yourself--and to what degree. But it's time you got a hint.
The other day I put on a pair of jeans and a black turtle neck. Craig chuckled and asked me about being ready to go up and talk about the newest Apple products. I briefly considered putting that little exchange on FB (phrased in a much more amusing manner). I say briefly, because about a second after considering that, my brain was like, NO, YOU SHOULD WRITE THAT CRAIG SAID SOMETHING LIKE, "DO YOU HAVE PANCREATIC CANCER?"
And the fact that my brain went there, isn't really the "terrible person" part--though I'd be willing to bet some would disagree. The fact that I was going to blame Craig is what put it into that category for me. I use Craig as a scapegoat (often a willing one, but a scapegoat nonetheless) for the . . . less appealing portions of my sense of humor. Those kind of jokes that you're not supposed to think are funny because they're "wrong." The kind of humor that would make my parents say, "we're disappointed in you." What. A. Coward.
But I shall hide no longer. I'm not saying I'm going to regularly splatter my blog posts with racial slurs and "NO, TOO SOON"-earning comments, but when I do decide to lay the less appropriate mutterings of my brain out for the public, it's going to be under MY name.
Thought you might like a warning.