It can be a struggle to come up with things to write. It sometimes really is feast or famine. I guess that is what writing is about. However, even when it’s famine, one still has to pull musings or words of wisdom out of thin air. That’s the hardest part.
I must admit that I lapse sometimes. The blogosphere apparently requires constant submissions to prevent literary obsolescence. Will a week absent from my pearls of wisdom result in such? Will my adoring masses abandon me? I’m such a petite flower (with biceps). How will I cope?
There are times when I feel like I’m letting my readers down. I feel that every posting should say something earthshaking and profound. The truth is, no one can be constantly earthshaking and profound. And that includes me.
I hear from many people about this journey to Europe. People I know are fascinated by my decision. I’ve had people tell me they are inspired, happy, excited, impressed and envious. Pick your adjective. I hear from people who casually tell me that they’ve been following my blog. They comment on posts.
And it flatters me. Sometimes it shocks me. I have no way of knowing who’s reading and who’s not. I obsessively look at the number of hits I have every day and compare them from the previous day. I do the same with my website, comparing the number of visits from the previous day. I check out Google Analytics to study the demographics of my hits. Belo Horizonte, Brazil? Really?
I know that not every posting is expected to be some adventurous commentary that will change American society. But I feel I’m letting people down if I’m not sharing something exciting or new regarding this impending move. The fact is that not every day is that interesting. And I think some people might believe that every day is full of nuance to relish, factoids to consider. If a phone call to Verizon Wireless is a nuance to relish, then my life is a laugh riot.
I think that everyone is watching this journey as a lesson in constant fascination. Truth is, there are some days that are drudgery. Today was mind-numbingly frustrating. I’m scheduled to leave on Monday but I will not have my Italian passport–I haven’t even sent for it because I’ve been waiting for my FBI criminal record (that is another story). Before I can send for my passport, I must tell the Italian Consulate my entry date into Europe and my point of entry. In order to do that, I must have my ticket. I have a ticket, but it must be changed. I don’t know how long it will take to get my visa which means I must make an educated guess on my entry date and entry point.
Get my drift? Isn’t this fascinating? Actually, the only interesting part for my readers would be for me to detail the bottles of wine consumed after a hectic day.
I have to sheepishly admit, though, that I’m liking the attention I’m getting. It makes me feel like I’m fourteen again which suggests a certain level of arrested adolescence in my psyche. Is there something wrong with that? Probably not. Who doesn’t like to get attention? I’m certainly not making this move just to impress people. Wouldn’t that be ludicrous?
But I don’t take lightly my readership and the respect I have for those who follow my blog. Otherwise, why would I be so concerned about my offerings? If I didn’t care, I would write whatever trite pabulum came to mind and proffer it out to the cosmos.
No, there’s the thump-thump-thump of plodding feet, meandering through each day with dull errands, relentless phone calls and irritating details that throw me off my rhythm.
But the beat goes on.