Saturday, October 23, 2010

Don't be shy... I see you

I don't get a whole lot of comments on this blog, and that's OK. I write mostly to organize the tangle of thoughts in my head and put them somewhere else so they don't clog up my brain.

But some friends will mention in passing that they've read certain posts, and I've gotten some nice emails and Facebook messages from old high school friends with words of encouragement. It's always nice to hear that people read what I write and don't think it's complete crap. (And if you do think it's complete crap, feel free to keep that to yourself. Thanks!)

If you follow my blog and don't want to comment because you're afraid I'll think you're a creeper, don't worry about that. Chances are I already know you're a creeper, especially if you're the only person I actually know who lives in a certain state or city.

Google Analytics rocks. It lets me know that people do read my crap! And they read it all over the country. Not so much in the midwest, but I've never been a big fan of that region, either.

All those dots represent visits from 77 different cities in 21 states. Doesn't look like that many, I know, but The Google never lies. At least I like to think it doesn't.

People have also viewed this blog in Germany (hi, Moo!), South Korea (hi, Sarah!), Canada, India and New Zealand (no clue on those last three).

And while the largest concentration of visitors obviously comes from Seattle and the surrounding cities, there are a surprising number of visits from Portland, Oregon, and Mesa, Arizona. Who are you, Portland people? Holler at me, Mesa! Don't be shy. I appreciate your visits, and I'd love to hear from you, too.

This is not meant to be an OMGLookHowCoolIAmBecausePeopleReadMyBlog post. (I've already established that I never have been, am not and never will be cool.)

I just thought I'd let y'all know that although I expose quite a bit of my thoughts here, I can also see a little bit of you, and I'd like to see even more (in a completely non-creepy way). Don't be afraid to comment, or just email me if you'd like to holler (talking to you, Mesa!) or ask me any questions about how I got to be such a weirdo.

And I'm sorry I've been MIA from blogging lately. (Yes, I see when people check my blog even when I haven't updated it for several days. I appreciate you.) I've been running. And going to sleep early. And getting up early. And running. You can read a little more about that here, if you want.

I get ideas for blog posts right about the same time I get into bed (which is 9:30 on weeknights, holler!), and I usually fall asleep writing them in my head. Then they're gone when I wake up.

I also have lots of random notes, quotes and lists on the memo app on my phone. The problem is that I tend to write looong, boooring posts and don't want to just knock out a post if I won't have time to get all my thoughts out. And if I start writing a post at 8:30, I'll inevitably be up until 11:30 obsessing over it, and then be tired and miserable the next day.

I highly suggest a 9:30 bedtime, grandma style. I didn't know what it felt like to not be tired all the time until I actually started getting enough sleep, and then I realized it was awesome and I don't want to go back. This hinders my blogging. I need to make the time.

I knew I was going to like J.D. Roth of Get Rich Slowly when I read something he wrote that was along the lines of, "I've been meaning to do [such-and-such], but I haven't made the time." He deliberately avoided saying, "I didn't have the time."

We all  have the same amount of time. We all choose what to do with it.

I currently make plenty of time for:
  • exercise
  • sleep
  • life admin (boring stuff like laundry, writing my budget, clearing clutter)
I need to work on making time for:
  • my close friends
  • blogging
  • keeping up with people (calling my dad, setting up lunch dates and happy hours with friends I rarely see, etc.)

Well, this post turned from a Creepy McCreepathon into a self-improvement call-to-action...

Now to sleep. Hiking Saturday. 5K-ing Sunday.

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