I tweet, sometimes too much. I love Twitter and all of the wonderful people I have met on it, many have them have become some of my closest friends and confidants. I share so much about my everyday life that I've always wondered where my line is. How much will I share?
I share sex jokes but not my sex life. I talk about things my kids say but not about their poop. I tweet from my classroom but do not complain about my students or coworkers. I share pictures, but mostly of food. I bitch about politics, but I don't like to debate. I say shocking things but avoid conflict.
This week, a curve. Dave and I have separated. I won't share the details, not even here, but I could not bring myself to tweet about it. I shared that I was feeling down, that I had amazing friends who were helping me through a tough time, but I could not come right out and say it; my marriage might be ending. Typing it makes it too real. And if I tweet it, people will reply. And then I will cry. Again.
I love you, my dear friends.
I share sex jokes but not my sex life. I talk about things my kids say but not about their poop. I tweet from my classroom but do not complain about my students or coworkers. I share pictures, but mostly of food. I bitch about politics, but I don't like to debate. I say shocking things but avoid conflict.
This week, a curve. Dave and I have separated. I won't share the details, not even here, but I could not bring myself to tweet about it. I shared that I was feeling down, that I had amazing friends who were helping me through a tough time, but I could not come right out and say it; my marriage might be ending. Typing it makes it too real. And if I tweet it, people will reply. And then I will cry. Again.
I love you, my dear friends.
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