Three days until Christmas, my daughter’s birthday was this past week and her party is today. My sons’ birthday is coming up in a week. I should be running around with my hair on fire. Instead I’m still in my pajamas writing a blog. I'm addicted to blogging. This is my cry for help.
Blogging has become like another job for me. At least, I treat it like one. If I don’t post often enough, I feel I’m letting the boss down. The boss, in this situation, would be me. (Sorry, Jimmy. (Jimmy is “the boss” at ChicagoNow.)) You see, I know there aren’t whole boatloads of people out there dying for my next wry musing. I have yet to receive any money for A City Mom, although for a while there I was a “Goodness Forecaster” for Post Cereal, who paid me with real cash and Fruity Pebbles. You know you’ve made it as a writer when you’re getting paid in Fruity Pebbles.
As A City Mom, though, it’s like my friend and fellow blogger, Karen Alpert, Baby Sideburns says, “I get paid in Likes.” (I link to her because I know she could use my help here. She only has 26,000 likes. Do you see my likes over there in the right rail? >>>>>You could help me out, too, while you’re at it, in the holiday spirit of helping-folks-out. Please Like me, too! Thank you very much!)
It’s a weird time of year to wax contemplative about this hobby of mine, one that I’ve been doing for coming up on seven years now. I’m too damn busy to wax anything. Then again, with the New Year approaching, and resolutions and all that, I suppose it’s not so weird. What is weird is that on some level, I’m a little sad the world didn’t end yesterday, because man, I could really use a break.
I wrote about how much I like my Likes just recently, but it’s only since our ChicagoNow Holiday Party that I’ve come to realize how much I treat this blogging hobby like a job. After talking to a bunch of other bloggers, I learned most of us do. I started blogging to sell books, but after seven years I’ve learned, blogging doesn’t sell novels. I don’t make any money blogging. But it’s like crack. A really crazy addictive habit I just can’t break. A habit I don’t want to break, because I love it. So, I will continue to do it, because I can’t help myself. I love this "job." And you can continue to feed my bad habit with Likes, or, just send cash. (But, please, no more Fruity Pebbles.)