There was a time, when this blog was anonymous, when neither family nor love interests were any wiser to its existence, that the electronic airing of dirty laundry was how I got by. Something about handing over my woe-is-me’s to the Universe and saying, “Here, see what you can make of this” felt healing. Cleansing, maybe. Having never gone to confession, I can’t say that I know, but I imagine that’s what it feels like. Say five Hail Marys.