Thursday, October 13, 2005


At times I wish that I hadn't told my friends and family that this was me writing this stuff. If no one knew who I was, I could write about things like finances and Christmas gifts. For example, I could report progress on the pair of socks that I was knitting for my little sister for Christmas (no, none of you are getting socks... at least, if you are I haven't planned it yet). Or I could just vent some of my frustrations and not worry about people getting offended or offering help.

But why do I hate to be helped? I usually need help, and always appreciate receiving help. I suppose it's because I tend toward perfectionism and I want to be able to do it all myself.

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