I’m no dummy. (shut up.)

The kids are back in school, hubby is back at work, and I’m where I always was. The temp will climb to the mid-fifties today, so my guess is that most of the ice/snow will be melted by this evening. The rest will melt tomorrow when it gets in the mid-sixties.

Good thing we took advantage of the sunshiney weather yesterday to play in the snow. Neighbor Lady saw us playing outside and brought her grandkids over to play with us. Since we ere outside the fragrance wasn’t too much of an issue. Whenever I caught a whiff I just moved further up-wind. I’m a be-near person, not a stay-away person, so it was weird trying to keep my distance from them.

This is the same neighbor whose daughter has been fighting cancer, don’t know if you remember, and I was watching the granddaughter from time to time before I realized the smell her shampoo was a trigger for my migraines. I wish I could do more for Neighbor Lady, because she’s the only one who can take up the slack with her grandchildren while their mother is ill. I appreciate Neighbor Lady’s understanding. If you have a moment to spare, could you say a short prayer for the family’s healing?

In other “news”, I had planned to call my agent today. I’m at a crossroads, as one book is losing momentum and the new one is just starting its submission life. I emailed my list of questions to Sara almost two weeks ago, and as it became clear my email got lost somewhere, I figured she’d probably rather have a phone conversation.

Only here’s what happened: I sat down to make that call at 9 a.m. my time, which would mean it was 10 a.m. her time. Got ready to dial, and the phone rang in my hand. It was my brother, checking to see if I had done a bit of business we’d talked about, which I hadn’t. Time was of the essence, so I called the business, hung up, called my brother again, hung up, business was done in a half hour. Prepared to dial Sara, again the phone rang. This time it was a wrong number. Hung up. Checked email while I waited to see how it played out, if the phone would ring again. After 5–10 minutes it hadn’t, so I thought about calling again, and just then my mother called. By the end of  that conversation an hour had elapsed.

Mind you, I’d not had one call before I tried to call Sara, nor one since I decided not to. I’ve had enough experience with signs to know it’s best to heed them. The call can wait till another day.

Hitting the reset button…continued

A few months ago I cleared my Google Reader of all blogs. All of them, even blogs of friends. I was going underground for a while to recharge, and while I knew there was a risk of the collapse of the Internet in my absence, I also knew that if I had that constant connection I would get sucked back in again. I did stay in contact some, but having to remember the web address and then type it in cut waaaaay back on time spent with the blogiverse.

Not only did I cut out the blogs I read, but I also cut out my own blog. I never checked stats, very seldom answered comments, let Akismet delete the spam unchecked. Shocking, I know.

How did I get so many blogs on my reader in the first place? Lots of reasons, I guess. This person commented: Subscribe! This person made me laugh: Subscribe! These people are in the publishing business: Subscribe, subscribe, oh yes, subscribe! I needed to build a platform for my burgeoning (now wilting) writing career. I needed to make connections for my fan base. I like having a discussion about a post, and using the comment system as a way to keep in touch with my blog friends, to show I care even if I haven’t emailed in a while, to make new friends.

I ended up with over a hundred active blogs in my reader, and that might not seem like a lot, except that I was reading all of them, and trying to comment where I could. What started out as a perfectly reasonable plan became a huge obligation. It’s easy to start taking in too much information without even noticing. Too much noise. I started to feel busy even though I wasn’t getting anything done! So I deleted everything and started my personal Reset Button campaign, which I blogged about at Christmas. It’s all about balance, people.

I’ve noticed lately that my subscriptions are climbing again. Having gone from one extreme to the other, I now know where I want the pendulum to come to rest. I like being connected, but on my own terms. So I’ll keep my subscriptions, but here’s the plan:

  • Organize the blogs into friends, industry, humor, news etc. That way I don’t have to go through all of them to see the ones I want. I had a rudimentary organization in place before the reset, but I hadn’t made it a priority.
  • Don’t force any comment. Only comment if I have something I absolutely can’t keep to myself, then keep it short and sweet. If it’s bland, that’s ok.
  • Answer comments on my own blog in a new post. Lots of times I’d like to continue the discussion, but it seems each post is exclusive. This would be a good way to draw out longer and more interesting discussion, as well as more frequent posting.
  • Clear the posts frequently. If I didn’t read it two days ago, I ain’t never gonna read it.

I’d like to issue a challenge to all my readers:  Hit your own reset button. Think of an area in your life which is way out of balance. Brainstorm about ways to start over, cut back, or eliminate entirely. Take notes. Then blog about your progress, and pass it on. It’s all about balance, people.

A short reflective post

Talked with a high school friend last night for the first time in years. It got me to thinking, as such conversations might, about all the things I’d planned to do, how much I’ve changed and how very, very similar I still am to that young woman. All these years I’ve been doing a self-therapy, trying to fix my personality, trying to be a different person. I never even questioned it; if I were able to heal all the wounds I’d acquired over the first third of my life, I would gain qualities which could not be contained inside the person I was, and so a new person would emerge. Not only was the new person better, stronger, faster than the old person; no, the picture I held unquestioned in my mind was a perfect person. A person who never made mistakes. A person who always knew the right thing to say and do, and always said and did them.

In the reflection of my old friend, I see I may not have changed much at all, at least not in the ways I’d hoped. Maybe those qualities I railed against are just … me. That never occurred to me before. I thought I could fix them.

I’m not sad, just processing this. I love when fate requires me to challenge previously accepted fact. I may have more to say on this tomorrow.