I haven’t been around for quite a while. In fact, I haven’t been around since my single annual post that usually consists of the phrase “I haven’t been around for quite a while”. This has been occurring with enough regularity to have the phrase engraved on my tombstone ( which is moderately amusing when I think about it ). There are reasons. Madness. Facebook. Plushie brains. The usual. But none of which are interesting enough to share, let alone write about.
A month ago I decided to wipe this blog. You probably didn’t notice, but don’t beat yourself up about it… you were busy. The reasons for this were twofold.
1) People told me I was a good writer and should write a book or something. This, naturally, terrified me. Suddenly I became incapable of stringing sentences together in any coherent fashion whatsoever. Success..? What the heck was I supposed to do with that?? I instantly sought other avenues where failure was a sure thing. And you know what?? There’s LOADS of them. I was potentially guaranteed to be bloody useless at a new something for a very long time indeed. Ahhh… there was my comfort zone. Rather annoyingly I became moderately successful at a few of those things too, but I nipped those in the bud before anyone else noticed. *phew*
2) I got an email from my ex where, amongst other things, he mentioned one of my blog entries. Which coincidentally was about something he did that was rather silly that made him look like a bit of a lemon. Suddenly it dawned on me. This blog isn’t under my name, it’s under my professional online name.
What sort of moron has a private blog under the same name that they earn a living under?
(I’ll leave you to imagine me sheepishly raising my right hand at this point.)
It’s through sheer good luck rather than any semblance of intelligence that I’ve never bitched about the industry I work in or the folk that inhabit the same particular swamp. But I could have. And if my ex can find me, anyone else can.
So I toyed with starting up a new blog, but my muse was nowhere to be found. He’s probably in Switzerland or something, living an entirely new identity under the witness protection program… so I just settled for deleting all my content.
“Hold on one sec, you loon,” I hear you say “But I can see what you’ve written. It’s right there…look.”
Well yes, I changed my mind this morning and re-imported the whole damn thing.
Rarasaur, that’s why. Or more accurately *this post*. Rara seems to be struggling a bit with the same issue. However, she’s more “get up and go” than me, and I usually have to resort to some serious industrial grade self-bribery to get anything done. For instance, for writing this I am rewarding myself with a KitKat Chunky. I introduced this reward system as a feeble attempt at self-encouragement, which has worked up to a point. The point being that my chocolate consumption has shot up 600%, which equates to a 20% increase of bodily mass. To put it bluntly, in return for being a good and focussed girl I rewarded myself with a 15% bigger arse. Considering the fact there’s already plenty of junk in this trunk this side effect hasn’t turned out to be terribly motivating. Yesterday I bought myself a huge bunch of fresh carrots with the intention of rewarding myself with crunchy carrot sticks and healthy dip. Last night I moved them to the end of the kitchen and ate the entire dip with half a family-size bag of Doritos.
Nevertheless, here I am, and I’m hoping to get back into the Daily Prompt.
I will, however, continue to ignore their handy tips on better blogging and building a healthy following because that’s a little too much like achieving something for my liking… and success? That’s something I shall be avoiding like carrots.