If My Blog Were My Boyfriend, It Would Dump Me
5 AM–Alarm goes off, telling me it’s time to get ready for work. “I’m not going to check my blog. I’ve got to leave the house on time because I need gas.”
5:04–I wash my hands and brush my teeth. “Maybe I’ll take just a quick peek to see if anyone responded to my last post.”
5:07–I log into my WordPress account. The anticipation of an orange icon in the top right makes my heart flutter.
5:08–Disappointment stretches across my face when I see a pale gray box instead of the bright orange acceptance I’ve been longing for. “It’s still early, right? I’ll give it a few more minutes.”
5:09–The heart monitor-esq flatline of the mini stats bar crushes my ego and hurts my feelings. I contemplate logging out and visiting my site just to give myself a little status boost. “That’s just desperate and crazy.”
5:10–I log out and visit my site. “I’ll know it was me. No big deal.”
5:11–I feel like a loser and vow never to do that again. “What’s wrong with you, weirdo?”
5:12–I check my email and realize that my favorite bloggers have posted entries while I’ve been sleeping. I select a few and read instead of picking out my clothes. “This girl is so amazingly talented and funny. No wonder she has 56 ‘likes’ an hour after she posts. My mama doesn’t even ‘like’ my posts.”
5:13–“Your mother loves you and reads every one of your posts. Get a grip, head case.”
5:37–An orange star pops up on the top right. I click with viper like speed. “Aw, Mom. You do ‘like’ me!”
5:38–I finish reading that post and swear that I’ll only read one more before I start getting ready.
5:48–I’m curious about who was Freshly Pressed and make a quick click. A high school girl like jealously enters my consciousness. “That’s not even that good. In fact, I wrote a post similar to that 4 months ago, and it was way better than this drivel.”
5:52–I feel like crap for thinking nasty thoughts about someone’s great post and pray that God forgive my envy. “I didn’t start this blog for recognition, so why does this even matter to me?”
5:58–My house phone rings. It’s my dad asking if he should pick up the kids for me this evening. “What time is it? Are you kidding!?! No, I wasn’t still sleeping. I was…
blo finishing up a presentation for work.”‘
5:59–I ask God to forgive the sin of lying after the sin of envy. I hang up the phone and run full speed to the shower. “i have to be at work in an hour.”
6:13–I rip my nylons in the rush (no time to shave, so bare legs is not an option today) and decide that the least wrinkled pants I can find is the bottom half of a still undecided outfit.
6:17–I rub my finger across a sleeping computer to rouse it. “A comment!”
6:18–I sit down on the side of the bed, still without shoes to read the comment. “‘Great post.’ Well that deserves a well thought out reply.”
6:29–I realize that my reply to a two-word comment is way too detailed, so I say “Thanks!” instead, glance at the clock, and realize that I must not really want to be employed. I take off running to the bathroom to put in contacts, and realize that I have not done anything to the ‘fro. “Crap, where are my bobby pins and flower clip?” I opt for the glasses today.
6:32–I grab my bag, work keys, and computer, taking one last peek, and run toward the garage.
6:33–I turn the ignition, and see a nearly empty gas tank reading on the dash. “Crap, crap, crap! Can I make it?”
7:02–I pull up to the job and notice that I’m the only one here. I hop out, grabbing my stuff, and walk at a professionally brisk pace toward the door. I enter, swipe in, and head to my office. “I might be able to check before anyone shows up.”
7:14–I’ve read the two comments fellow bloggers have left, responded, and reciprocated on their pages before my coworker shows up.
7:15–I decide that being employed is much more important so I exit out and begin to work. All morning long, conversations and experiences make it into my mental blog topics list, and I watch the clock, waiting for lunch.
12:00–FINALLY! I opt out of a group lunch and head back to my office with laptop tucked snugly under my arm. Another little orange star greets me, and I decide to start penning a little tale about some episode or another.
12:30–“This sucks!” I almost delete the draft, but keep it in favor of improving it later. I go get gas to save time this evening.
4:00–It’s quittin’ time, and I log into WordPress before the rush hour drive home. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous.”
5:30–The kids run as fast as they can and crash into my legs, screaming about how much they love and miss me. I give mommy kisses and hugs and play catch, read books, and eat spaghetti. We clean the kitchen, brush teeth, and put on pajamas. We say prayers. I tuck them in and go to my room to get ready for bed.
9:00–Some childish antic reminds me of the joy of writing as its own reward, and I pen some quick truth about my Princess and my Pirate. I smile contentedly at the finished product, and go to bed without so much as a hint of a desire for orangeness.
Three days later…
“Wow, it’s been three days since I’ve last been on here?” I log on and see that there have been many, many views, several likes, and a few comments to my last post. “Just like a man!”