Today I’m going riding. I haven’t sat on a horse in weeks. My daughter has given up asking. “You’re a blogger” she accuses, like a magistrate pronouncing sentence. I wonder… what would be the penalty for too much blogging? Certainly not imprisonment – that would miss the point. Perhaps a few days’ brisk jogging.
My family don’t understand what an accomplishment blogging is for me. Having studiously avoiding all forms of cybernetworking over the years (as the result of an encounter with a cyberstalker), it was not easy for me to follow my publisher’s advice and begin blogging. In fact, this new venture was reluctant as a trudge through thick mud.
Then, thanks to Freshly Pressed, brilliant shafts of light suddenly penetrated the Cloud. Fear fizzled out. A whole new world was illuminated, ripe for exploration. Eagerly I clicked on one Follow tab after another… and waited … bubbling with excited anticipation.
But nothing happened. I mean NOTHING. My click was the kiss of death. Whoever I “followed” instantly shut up house and left the planet. For goodness sake, I muttered to myself, can’t they tell I’m only a lost puppy, not the hound of the Baskervilles. Then I just happened to click the Reader button and WHOOOSH, an overwhelming tsunami of blogs that had been building up over the weeks came tumbling across my screen.
For me, the best by far are the comments on comments – when a fellow-blogger gives you a little bloggette all to yourself, whether a referral to another source or videoclip, or some useful snippet of info. Blundering blindly through my massive backlog of unread blogs, I only stumble on these “comments on comments” by accident, long after the event, which makes them even more special.
For me, time management amounts to fire-fighting. I’ve always flown by the seat of my pants and it’s too late to change. I prioritise things by their urgency. How do you bloggers manage to get through all your comments, write fresh posts and read new stuff? You are amazing! You can’t possibly have day jobs, unless you are those lucky people who don’t need sleep. Someone should do a study of the “average” blogger. He/she or it (there must be some “machines” among you) must be a pretty amazing creature. I don’t know how you do it!
Since I now know I’ll never, EVER measure up, today I’m going out to get some “roses in my cheeks” instead. “You better not chicken out” says my daughter as she leaves the house. If she only knew.