Disclaimer

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Blog feedback since I got dumped by the ex-DH is falling into two distinct camps, both characterised by how people think I'm doing. Secondhand rumours abound about the flavour of my days, as expressed through this blog.

On the first team are those readers who assume this is all lies, and contact me to point out life sounds like one long party, and I'm rubbing it in. This team believes everything I say on here, but hopes I'm lying. Smart cookies. They think I should whinge a little less and I rather like them for that.

On the opposing team are those readers who read between the lines -- these are the ones who noticed that I ended a nine year relationship and have spent the last ten weeks trying fruitlessly to drink myself better. Blogging all the parties in the world wouldn't mask these key, inescapable facts. Smart cookies. Key quote: "how can anyone read it [the blog] and not know that you're falling apart in side?" This team send me heartwarming late night emails saying 'thinking of you' and have me on a Bloggers at Risk register.

The truth is vague, incomplete and embellished, and subject to all of my usual distortions.
So are the lies.
The conclusion: all my cookies are smart.

This post brought to you by Slightly Too Much Sore Throat Medication.
Read the fucking disclaimer!