Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Sins and confession
Writing that last post made me realize the terrible thing that I had done to these men who had not done me any wrong. Crippled with grief, I sent the following to Peter:
When I ticked off those names on my mailing list, including your own, I was not being mindful of you and your situation. I didn't realize that by including your name, I violated your privacy. It was mindless and highly irresponsible of me. It is only now that I realize the import of my actions and their possible consequences. I can only hope that no damage to you has been done. I feel terrible for having done this to you. It's very sobering to realize how stupid the whole thing was. I do have my moments, don't I? You're being very kind and patient. Thank you.
The need to confess and be punished (residual emotions from my Catholic upbringing: discussion set aside for another day) was so overwhelming that it had to be done. Mea culpa! Indeed!
I went about my tasks lightheaded for the rest of the day, with my sins weighing down heart and soul. My having allergic rhinitis didn't help any, along with the two tablets of brain-fuzz-inducing antihistamine I had with lunch.
And then, a break in the clouds. Peter sent the following in response to my contrite email:
Yes, I will have to punish you real bad next time I see you!
I completely forgot about Renaud and Alex. Peter was enough.
I am an idiot, but a much-loved (well, perhaps -regarded more than -loved) idiot.
When I ticked off those names on my mailing list, including your own, I was not being mindful of you and your situation. I didn't realize that by including your name, I violated your privacy. It was mindless and highly irresponsible of me. It is only now that I realize the import of my actions and their possible consequences. I can only hope that no damage to you has been done. I feel terrible for having done this to you. It's very sobering to realize how stupid the whole thing was. I do have my moments, don't I? You're being very kind and patient. Thank you.
The need to confess and be punished (residual emotions from my Catholic upbringing: discussion set aside for another day) was so overwhelming that it had to be done. Mea culpa! Indeed!
I went about my tasks lightheaded for the rest of the day, with my sins weighing down heart and soul. My having allergic rhinitis didn't help any, along with the two tablets of brain-fuzz-inducing antihistamine I had with lunch.
And then, a break in the clouds. Peter sent the following in response to my contrite email:
Yes, I will have to punish you real bad next time I see you!
I completely forgot about Renaud and Alex. Peter was enough.
I am an idiot, but a much-loved (well, perhaps -regarded more than -loved) idiot.
