I don't take a compliment very well.
Some people thrive on it. I don't.
I never know how to respond. My first inclination is to say, "Ditto." Or to turn around and somehow compliment the person doing the complimenting.
But as you might have garnered from your many years of reading this blog, flattering or doling out praise is not one of my strong suits. And I hate coming off as disingenuous.
Last week one generous reader contacted me from out of the blue.
I've blurred out his name to spare him any humiliation. It should also be noted that I possess no photoshopping skills whatsoever and the only digital manipulation capabilities I do have spring from Preview. In other words, there isn't a chance in the world I could have fabricated the following...
That's some pretty heady stuff.
Not to be outdone, a day later, I received another flattering email. Once again, I've taken the trouble to blur the writer's identity to maintain this misguided individual his or her dignity.
Couple that with last month's end of year surge, where traffic reached an all time high of 19, 450 hits and I might have to get myself a new car, one with a sunroof to accommodate my swollen head.
The good news is that while I don't take compliments very well, it's an issue I don't have to deal with too often.
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