curse you, Google cache

I’m feeling a bit safer now, since my regular and panicky checks of the Google cache reveal the lasting evidence of my former blog have disappeared.

At least now no-one can confront me with the content directly… although my old blogger profile still exists. In future this will contain no information about the city I live in, and at times, deliberately misleading information about me. Accept this.

The subject of my frantic removal of all content will be with us until the end of the first week of November. I still don’t know 100% if she knows about the blog, and who she has told.

The only way I will find out is to ask her. If she does know, I will have to clear the air. If she doesn’t, I will have to confess everything. I will need a goodly amount of liquor to accomplish this feat.

It’s a good thing I didn’t fall for her.

That would have been most complicated…

the fugitive kind

How did it come to this?

Paranoid. Nervous. Waiting to be confronted.

Waiting for my come uppance.

Waiting to be outed.

Do they know who I am?

Does she know it was me?

Has she told anyone else?

I can’t ignore this and make it go away.

It’s out there. I’m out there.

The me I never wanted them to know.

I am a cautionary tale to every blogger. Take head.

They have just found out what you really think.

Yell “FUCK!” loudly.

It might help.

But it won’t save your wretched soul…