Somebody’s Watching Me

Having a blog is weird. I sit here and type things and it feels like I am all alone, like writing in a diary.  But then I push “publish” and my words go flying out into the universe for anyone to see.  Which is sort of the point, yes.

But when I look at the stats and see the people who are reading what I write, I have that Rockwell song (link above) running through my head:

I always feel like
Somebody’s watchin’ me
And I have no privacy
Oh, I always feel like
Somebody’s watching me
Tell me is it just a dream

There’s a fun little feature where I can look at where the visitors come from.

Arizona – that’s my parents – Hi Mom and Dad!

Indiana – one of my old neighbors.

New York – my coworkers or my friend who is visiting up there.

Some are more mysterious though…

Who is reading me in Brazil?

Bangladesh? Ireland? Weird, right?

Then there is someone who apparently works in the Westport Public Schools in Connecticut who must be my biggest fan EVER, visiting once and sometimes twice a day. Wow. I can just feel the love.

I hope that what I have to say is interesting enough to inspire all of this international interest – I’ll have to work on a good story for next time.

But for now, I just wanted to acknowledge you all. I know you are out there and, although it is a tiny bit creepy that you can watch me and I can’t see you, I am happy to keep on blogging.

Have a great weekend wherever you are!

About Kristen

Me: Kristen, more than 40-something (don't make me face the number), suburban mom of 2, working girl, therapeutic writer, proprietor of an emptying nest Addictions: Iced Coffee, FOMO resulting in twitchy compulsion to check FB/Instagram/Pinterest in an unending loop, texting, hugging my one child while Snapchatting the other and yelling at my dog

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