Limited Edition Travel

The view from 30,000 feet is disheveled and rumpled, with a chance of sleepiness

As I review blog entries from the last four years (I've been babbling here for that that long? How is that even possible?) a couple of patterns emerge. First, as projects come and go, the number of blog entries I put out ebb and flow, and mostly seem to be in ebb these days. If my boss were trying to find out how much time I was putting in on my job, a pretty good gauge would be the number of blog entries in any given month—more work = less blog. I simultaneously feel guilty and irritated at this. Guilty because despite the haphazard quality of my blogging efforts, I've been startled by the number of people who tell me they actually read It's gratifying, and not a little weird. One of the things I've learned from the pro-bloggers conference is that content is king, and regular updates keep readers happy; thus my guilt at letting blogging slide so often and occasionally for so long.

Irritation comes in because I actually really enjoy blogging. I've never been one to keep a diary or a daily journal, despite many efforts over the years to try to do so. I start with the best of intentions, but at the end of only a week or ten days I go back and have a look at what I've written, and it all seems like random drivel, so I tear out pages and give up again. more

Posted by Shoeleather Tim AT 11:21PM 3 Comments Comments Post A Comment Post A Comment Email Email
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