I'm not joking
I'm going to let you in on a secret.
I'm not a funny writer.
Astonishing, I know, for those of you who have been sniggering along to my posts.
You were wrong all along.
I want to be humorous. Truly. I tried.
I read all of these blogs by other parents that are very funny about their lives with a side of autism. They have thousands of followers.
I looked at my little score chart. The most people who ever even viewed one of my blogs was 51. That was the one about Blues Clues. I'm pretty sure those people got there looking for something actually about BC and thought "WTF?"
So I think to my self "Self, this next post WILL be humorous. Or else." In a very threatening manner. But I just don't work well under pressure.
So I write another blog about how I feel about autism. And our lives with autism. Which, while often real and raw, doesn't seem very funny.
I think it's because I write for myself. More of a journaling thing rather than for wide-spread consumption. My most private thoughts put out there on the web. So it's all right that not many people see them. Because really, if I was a preteen, they would be in a diary in the drawer beside my bed.
I'm not a funny writer.
Astonishing, I know, for those of you who have been sniggering along to my posts.
You were wrong all along.
I want to be humorous. Truly. I tried.
I read all of these blogs by other parents that are very funny about their lives with a side of autism. They have thousands of followers.
I looked at my little score chart. The most people who ever even viewed one of my blogs was 51. That was the one about Blues Clues. I'm pretty sure those people got there looking for something actually about BC and thought "WTF?"
So I think to my self "Self, this next post WILL be humorous. Or else." In a very threatening manner. But I just don't work well under pressure.
So I write another blog about how I feel about autism. And our lives with autism. Which, while often real and raw, doesn't seem very funny.
I think it's because I write for myself. More of a journaling thing rather than for wide-spread consumption. My most private thoughts put out there on the web. So it's all right that not many people see them. Because really, if I was a preteen, they would be in a diary in the drawer beside my bed.
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