I suppose if one blogs, one shouldn't expect too much privacy, right?
Here at Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven, we tell just about everything there is to tell. I keep no secrets. But sometimes my world seems so small. Everybody knows my business.
Earlier this week I went to have lunch at the deli by my office. I planned on having the burger of the week, but then I saw that the daily special was chicken taquitos. I was having a hard time deciding what to order, so the cashier suggested I have the daily special. "After all, the burger will be around all week, but the taquitos are only here today!"
20 minutes later as I happily munched taquitos at my desk, Ms. Karma sent me a chat to let me know she just missed me, and she went to the same deli for lunch. I told her we could go to lunch there later this week so I could try the El Paso burger. Ms. Karma replied, "After all, the burger will be around all week, but the taquitos are only here today!"
The girls working at the deli must have been chatty that day.
On Friday night I cheated. I smoked two cigarettes at CC Slaughters. At 3 a.m. on Saturday morning I received a text message from The Toddtender:
"I heard you were smoking. Jocks don't smoke." The Toddtender wasn't even working when I was there having my TWO MEASLY CIGARETTES. Word travels fast.
Someday, when I am in the Witness Protection Program (it's bound to happen), I'll be a nervous wreck - well, I would imagine most people in the program are generally nervous wrecks - but I will be particularly nervous. I just know one of my friends will slip up and say to the Mob Boss, "Oh, Toddy? He just called me from his hovel in Montana! Do you want his number?"
I live with one of my close friends, and I work with another close friend or three, and two of my former housemates work with me, and I have slept with LOTS of my close friends (but only one former housemate). I just feel like all my relationships bleed into one another to the point where my home life is not separate from my work life or my social life. I half expect to come to work on Monday and hear the guard at the front desk say, "Hot Toddy, I heard your World of Warcraft troll priest is at level 14. Good job!" (Of course by Monday I'll probably be at least level 18)
I don't know why my privacy is not respected. I mean, other than sharing the details of my life, including pictures of my injured foot, stories about sex, details of my dates, and all the ups and downs of love with about 400 people a day on Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven, I pretty much keep to myself.