Image regret

All my life, I've done most of my writing in a state more asleep than awake.

High school term papers. Columns from my first job as a weekly reporter. Essays in grad school. Client letters now. And this blog, more often than not.

Results are always mixed. I know can't speak objectively about its quality until I've had a nap. At the newspaper, this was dangerous. I would frequently stay up until 6 a.m. writing captions and headlines (all for under $20K a year!). It was only post-publication, when the paper was in the hands of 2,000 subscribers, that I noticed typos, mismashed sentences, general gobbeldygook that could never, ever be unprinted.

Blog sleepiness is less serious. Except when it leads me to portray myself as someone I don't want to portray myself as.

So under extreme fatigue last night, I composed my thoughts on all the "looking for sex" dudes who have recently bombarded me on OKC. This afternoon I revisited it. Cranky city. I should have just gone to bed instead.

For the record, I do not fancy myself a sex magnet. Really. (Or more importantly, a sex magnet who makes fun of men with pale, lumpy chests. My chest and stomach are pale and lumpy, for God's sake!) I am fully aware that very very soon, after the googlebot has visited, anyone who types "sex magnet" into an internet search window will eventually reach this site and read my cranky, sex magnet tales of pale, lumpy chest judgements.

I'd rather be known to the world as an empathetic long-legged runner with piano hands who can string sentences beautifully and ride a bike in heels and has a loving family and friends as well as someone of her own to love.

Sounds like it's time to work on this image thing.