What Strangers Know

Fri, 15 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Thursday. Day twenty-one. Three weeks.

I sat down this morning the way I’ve sat down every morning for three weeks, and that’s the thing I want to talk about. The sitting down has become automatic. I don’t bargain with myself about it anymore. I don’t wonder if I should skip a day. I get up, make coffee, open the laptop, and write.

Three weeks ago I wrote that I wasn’t sure I was “a blogger.” That I was using this as a commitment device. A public ledger for a private decision. If I wrote it where people could see it, I couldn’t quietly slink back to my desk and pretend nothing had changed.

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What Strangers Know