I was hasty
A while back I wrote some not-nice things about my boss and her boss, in a fit of anger that I was using to propel myself through a dreary task on which my job depended. I was doing some other things to get myself through it, too, and they worked. I got it done. But now I regret saying nasty things about them. I like these people most of the time. And if they openly observed my worst qualities, I would come out looking pretty bad. Not that they or anyone who knew them probably saw it, but I went back and made that entry private. I kept it to remind myself what self-righteous spite looks like in hindsight.