fear of posting

My firstborn started me blogging before abandoning me for college. I blame her for my current addiction to blogging. I am now the proud owner of a bevy of blogs, a virtual deluge of drafts, and tons of titles for possible future posts. I blame myself for the fact that I seem to suffer from a paralyzing fear of actual posting. It seems as if everything could use just one more edit. Part of my problem stems from the fact that it takes me time to formulate my thoughts, and then to search for the perfect word to fit each thought. However, as the years roll by I find that the old brain gets duller and retrieving the exact word I need, when I need it, becomes more and more difficult. I've always wanted to write. How frustrating that now that I actually have the time to do so, the words have become more and more illusive. There's a word for that...what is it? Oh yeah - irony. So many of my drafts are pock marked with gaps awaiting the future insertion of lost words. Still, I find the blank page to be a patient listener; and not in any way judgemental. In any case, all of these issues make me ill equipped for the art of the snappy comeback which is so often required in witty conversation. This leaves me four options: 1.) Stand there gape-mouthed, 2.) Think while responding, then try to talk myself out of the hole I've dug, with my random thoughts and poorly chosen words, as they stand there gape-mouthed, 3.) Write down the smart retorts I should have made, while writing lies in my journal later that day, or 4.) Awake redfaced with shame the next morning as the realization of what was actually being communicated dawns on me with the light, and I realize that I was so busy thinking about what I was going to say about what was being said, that I didn't actually hear what was said (until now). Are you beginning to understand my fear of just blurting blogsful of random thoughts. Thus the desire to let time and thoughtful editing prevent me from saying something stupid in public. Of course, as a back up plan you, dear reader, should always feel free to correct me if I'm wrong (which happens from time to time...I cannot lie...except to my journal...which is sure to be very confusing to my descendants). Anyway, if I ever get past this pervasive posting paranoia, the accumulated dam of repressed drafts will break, and cyberspace won't know what hit it. Until then, please be patient. I'll try to keep you posted...