I dislike confrontation; I really do. I do my best to avoid it. I think it may be because of my inability to think on my feet. I have never been a person who always has that great comeback. I am that person who, like George Costanza, thinks of a great comeback several hours later when the opportunity has passed.

Unlike George Costanza, I will not fly to Akron, Ohio just to deliver my witty response (although I am sure Akron is lovely).

This is why I am a huge fan of the written word. Which could also explain my unhealthy obsession with my computer and email.

I feel it is so much easier to write a person a letter, an email or even a text message. It gives me time to think, re-think, ask someone else what they think and re-write roughly eight or nine times. And if the response makes me cry, they won’t see me.

Am I a wimp? Oh most certainly. I blame my mother. Why? I don’t know, but I am sure she must have done something to make me like this.

So when my boss recently did not pay me for a holiday, I wrote him an email.

When SS#2 left the garage freezer open during a 95 degree day, I sent him a text message (he apologized, which was shocking because he loves to argue with me. Probably because he knows I am a wimp).

When a certain psychiatrist in my office building never gives his patients a bathroom key and they have to ask me CONSTANTLY disrupting me because they don’t want to disrupt him, I wrote him a letter.

Well, you get the point. Coma Girl = Big wimp, cries easily, probably should not be around teenagers.

If my marriage ever comes to an end, I’ll probably just send him an email (he loves his blackberry more than me anyway).

http://gdcorwin.blogspot.com/2007/09/random-thoughts-on-first-fifteen-months.html

http://gdcorwin.blogspot.com/2007/09/mommy-guilt.html

http://gdcorwin.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-are-you-looking-at.html

http://gdcorwin.blogspot.com/2007/09/number-of-day.html