For way too long, I have navigated, edited and tolerated the very bland templates at my old digs. Eventually, the frustration wore me down and led me to beg shamelessly ask for help from a local Web Guru, who offered some simple (and free) advice. (Mainly because I told him up front that my budget was nil, and I approached him in a rather pathetic and hopeless way. )
And he was gracious and giving and generous in all those ways that you would expect a consultant to be, giving me the electronic equivalent of some very useful and virtual specialty items.
Among his nuggets of wisdom was this: don’t worry about the design; focus on the content. Which has been my mantra all along. Because I am not a designer. And it shows. So why leave, then? Because I was restless and wanted a trade-in. And this has more bells and whistles.
You could say, then, that my plea was an electronic and virtual coupon that netted me some pretty useful and encouraging advice re: the blog, which has sat sorely dormant for way too long. But the most useful words in Web Guru‘s e-mail were some carefully worded suggestions hinting that maybe something psychological might be behind my angst. And procrastination. And absence. And a whole bunch of other stuff that I’m making up right now. And while he might not realize that his insight, or subtle hint, shed a bright light on my insecurities and ADD, making the cockroaches scurry back into the cabinets, it did.
So I did what any blogger worth her salt would do: I moved. I threw out the baby, the bath water, the clothes, the bottles and everything else that baby brought into this world and started over. My old digs still sit there, grass up to your neck, a broken-down car in the carport, a washer on the front porch . . . sad, really. But my WORD, the homeowners association wouldn’t do anything about the common areas, so what’s a resident to do? Pack up and leave, that’s what.
I don’t have all the pictures on the wall, and boxes remain unpacked, but I’ll get everything in order in good time. December is always a down month and a good time to catch up on things that have gone neglected. So I’ll be wandering in and out of here, making things look nice and arranging some conversation pieces. I’ll try not to display Christmas lights through Easter.
And I’m about sick of writing these house and home metaphors.
Anyway, I’ve dimmed the lights and lit a few candles so as to hide the filth and clutter. Because that’s what a good hostess does. Leave your shoes at the door, grab a drink, and come on in . . . and come back often.