I'm a show I never watched, but, ironically, expect people to read. How's that for honesty?
I envy some of the bloggers I follow. Kelly is a Mommy-Blogger. Young House Love has that DIY thing down to an art. Andi lures people in with her 165 lb weight loss and keeps them with recipes and anecdotes about living and eating. But me? I ramble about what socks I'm wearing or why I'm the hillbilly of grad school. Clearly, I've got compelling down to an art.
Sometimes I'm jealous of those other blogs--not because I feel like what I say isn't as important, but because I feel like they understand what they want to say a little better than I do. People follow because you know exactly the tenor of John and Sherry's posts, Andi's musings and Kelly's pictures.
So it doesn't surprise me that I get followers and then lose them. After all, what of substance are you getting here? And yet, something in me says that Weight-loss-PCOS-Dealin'-Christian-Living-Students-Learnin'-School-Lesson-Planning-Whining-Reading-Freaking-Out-House-Building-Improving-Distaster-Dealin'-With-A-Freak-Side-Show-of-Infertility has to be at least as amusing as the Soup Nazi. Right? Right?
I tried to narrow the topics. Talk about one thing consistently. Focus on a single subject. My conclusion? Ain't happenin'. The truth is this: This is my life. It's ordinary and hilarious and full of unexpected forays into, well, the unexpected. I can't do singular, because
If you consider my sad, sad dependence on the internet blessing.