I feel like Matthew McConaughey. Except less attractive, charismatic and wealthy. Also I’m a woman.
But yesterday I released my precious little newborn blog into the world. It was frail and unstable and needed all the care of a baby bird. So I unveiled it to the cold harsh Internet at the prime time of, you guessed it, 2:23 pm. To the normal person, not a big deal. But to me, a nightmare.
As someone who deals with extreme bouts of anxiety and struggles with OCD, 2:23 pm is just an awful time. Statistically, it’s one of the worst times to post anything to the World Wide Webs since normal people are working or napping or getting high or eating second lunch (that’s a thing, trust me). They are not reading the blog of a twenty-something talking about John Goodman in an ugly dog suit.
I tried to schedule my post for a nice even time, 6:30pm. People are getting home from work, getting ready for dinner and excited to judge me on my inner workings. Instead I published prematurely, exposing the world (or rather the 5 people who probably saw it) to a typo and a poorly timed post.
And as someone who over-analyzes every fucking thing that happens in my life and proceeds to get mind-numbingly stressed over it, things like this matter to me. Deciding to open up about my mental health is stressful enough as it is without worrying about self-sabotage.
But I guess that’s the lesson in all of this. Don’t straighten your hair and expect it to be perfect the second you leave the house and choke on that 90% humidity. Don’t trust that your GPS will get you there right at 5:00pm like that stupid bitch insists she can do. And don’t expect your blog post to enter the world polished and perfect. It won’t be. It can’t be. Because you are a person with flaws and oddities. And if your blog didn’t have a few hiccups along the way, then it wasn’t really coming from you.
But you best believe I will never trust the fucking post scheduler again.