Daily Foglifter: If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
Friday was a very exciting day for me. I reached a goal. While I’m sure people reach goals all the time, it’s not that common for me. I am an expert goal-setter, but for whatever reason, I rarely get past the planning stage. Ok, I know the reasons.
- I’m too ambitious. All laundry washed, folded, and put away? Sparkling clean house? Trading pajamas for actual clothes EVERY day?
- I’m easily distracted. By TV, books, shiny things.
- I’m tired. All the time. Some might say I’m lazy. Po-ta-to, Po-tah-to.
Momfog is part of a master plan. I want a job. I have not worked in over 10 years because I was too busy having babies. Financially and philosophically, daycare was not an option, so I’ve been home with all five of my children. It’s been great, but also very stressful. It’s lonely. It’s boring. Every day is exactly the same. I needed to talk to adults. I needed to DO something. I needed a job. It was an idea, but not ideal. What would I do with my baby? What kind of job would make it possible for me to be home when the other kids got home? What about the summer? The solution, of course, was to work from home, which wouldn’t solve the problem of socialization, but I would be doing something. The only problems with that were my non-existent computer skills and aversion to telemarketing. What was I qualified to do? I looked into elance.com and got excited about the idea of being a “freelance writer.” Sounds impressive, right? It’s not. The jobs paid next to nothing and were unethical, to say the least. Rewriting other people’s articles, generating fake positive reviews of products and companies (usernames provided), and pretending to be a blogger and answering his e-mails and blog comments aren’t exactly things to be proud of. The few legitimate jobs required blog experience. I cringed at the word “blog.” It sounded so ostentatious. The Urban Dictionary explains it particularly well:
Short for weblog.
A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as “homework sucks” and “I slept until noon today.”
Did I really want to be part of that? What could I add to the millions of blogs already out there? Would it be worth the time and effort?
I researched blogs and was surprised by the number of people who make money doing it. I was also surprised that many publications accepted blog entries as “published” writing samples. I’ve dreamt of being a writer for most of my life. Of course, I had envisioned being a great novelist, but since I’m already 33 and haven’t written word one of a novel (the ramblings of my 16-year-old self doesn’t count), maybe it was time to focus on a local newspaper or magazine. Start a blog, get some writing done everyday and bide my time until I wrote the one article that would be suitable for publication. Somewhere. Anywhere.
After much planning and trepidation I posted my first blog entry. It went well. 36 views. I was concerned about returning visitors, but I’ve managed to keep an average of 38 views a day. Some entries logged as many as 71 views. I was encouraged so decided to set some short-term blogging goals.
- Write every weekday. This is really hard. I find myself distracted throughout the day, trying to think of something to write about. Luckily, life with 5 children is loaded with material. Maybe not very interesting material, but enough to keep the grandparents checking in, anyway.
- Commit to 3 months. If, at the end of three months, it was just my husband and parents reading, that would be it.
- Get 100 views in a single day.
I’ve done number one and am working toward number 2. Big deal. Those had everything to do with me. Now, number two, that would be something. It requires outside participation and shameless self-promotion (aka creative marketing). On Friday, exactly one month after starting Momfog, I met the goal with 113 views. Granted, I bugged all of Facebook for the hits, but only after I reached 88 and could taste victory. I also have a very supportive cousin who missed her calling in the PR field. (Thanks Steph).
So I actually reached a goal, albeit a goal within a larger goal surrounded by more important goals. I still don’t have a job, my house is a mess, I’m in my nightgown at noon, and I’m literally counting the minutes until Anna goes down for a nap so I can join her, but that’s okay. Tomorrow is another day.