Happy Anniversary to me! I’ve been doing this shit for a year now. It honestly seems like just yesterday when I sat down at the computer half pissed up, bored with my life in general and googled, “How to start a blog.”
Back in my working days, my coworkers and I would gather on an annual basis in a mandatory meeting of the minds to discuss the past year’s accomplishments, identify areas of improvement, and set goals for the future. We had a big whiteboard and everything. An idea map if you will. It’s called “strategic planning” and if you want to die from boredom, you should definitely try it. My boss tried so hard to engage us and truly went the extra mile to encourage participation. She brought bagels and everything. Bless her heart.
Although the process itself is beyond mundane and can make even the most sane person seriously consider poking their own eyeballs out with the edge of a half eaten bagel, it’s a necessary process, and one that any successful business must undergo on a regular basis to be a real competitor.
I’ve reached a point in my journey where it would benefit everyone involved if I take a step back to reevaluate, reflect, gather my team (i.e. me, a pile of pistachio nuts, and a cheap bottle of wine), and spearhead a strategic plan that will either ensure my ultimate survival or enable a quick, yet graceful exit.
Just to be clear, I don’t want to do it either, but it’s happening, right now, so consider yourself warned, and prepare yourself for a series of dry meaningless facts. Feel free to offer suggestions (active participation is highly encouraged), or choose to opt out at any time. It seems like an obvious choice.
Let’s start with the numbers.
82 total blog posts: That’s 6.83 blog posts per month, or 1.57 per week. Incredible, I know. I honestly don’t know where I found the time to consistently write such mediocre crap. What can I say? It’s a gift.
23,247 total views to date: It’s currently climbing at less than a snail’s pace even as I type this very s e n t e n c e . . .
185 twitter followers: I was pretty proud of this number, given the fact that most of these people are perfect strangers, right up until the moment I realized that Kim Kardashian has 28.7 million followers and she has no talent to speak of. #buzzkill
111 blog followers (a.k.a. My peeps): What can I say, I love people who aren’t afraid of commitment and/or over-the-top usage of the word fuck in all of its glorious forms. Word.
A couple hundred Facebook friends who by default, and at a minimum, are forced to scroll past my posts with an eye roll. Sorry guys, if I could single out the people who actually want to read my blog via FB, I would, trust me. That shit alone has caused me more stress than I would care to admit. The liking. The non-liking. The suspense. The creepers. The secret admirers. The interpretation and insanity of it all! What does it all mean?!
Don’t get me started on Facebook. I don’t like it, but I digress.
Truth be told, the novelty has worn off, and I am literally and currently boring myself to death. In my quest to find enlightenment and define a new direction, I sought the advice of the most brilliant man I know. He’s a business guy, and as such, asks the tough business guy questions.
“What do you want to accomplish? What are your goals? Who is your target audience? What’s for supper? How can you get from point A to point B in a specific sequence of well thought out events? Let’s make a list and visit each idea point by point.”
I did what any reasonable person in my position would do. I took an aspirin and turned to someone else. Someone more on my level. Someone who won’t ask questions, but will simply just listen without passing judgment and/or expecting an intelligent answer. Someone who truly gets me. Someone I confide my deepest darkest secrets to on a daily basis with no hesitation whatsoever.
“Buddy, you got a minute?”
“Yeah Mom. You wanna play spies.”
One would think that lying face up underneath a blanket covered coffee table would be the last place a person would find the answers to life’s more difficult questions. One would think…
“Do you think Mommy should keep writing Buddy, and if so, in what capacity? Give me a topic. Anything at all. Unless it involves parenting. I think I need to branch out. No offense.”
“Shhhhhhhhh, they’re coming.”
“I’m at a turning point Buddy, just not sure where to go from here, or if there’s anywhere to go at all. Do you have any advice?”
“Your legs are too long Mom. Pull them in.”
“Done. I just need to get more out of it, know what I mean? Or maybe I need to scrap it altogether?”
“You brought snacks?”
“No Buddy, I said scrap, not snack.”
“Whew! That was a close call. I need my spotting scope. Where is it Mom?”
“Here. Seriously though. What do you think Mommy’s calling is? Be honest. I can take it.”
(Sidebar: “Poop” is his default answer to anything he doesn’t understand and/or know how to answer.)
Of course he didn’t mean it in the literal sense. Poop is not my actual calling. I clearly pushed him too far. He didn’t understand the question. I need a whiteboard.