So, I’m minding my own business, giving birth to a new company (8 centimeters and 90% effaced) when people start lining up at my door. Suddenly, every SEO guru and marketing consultant on the internet wants to be my best bud. C’mon people, I haven’t even pooped this one out yet!
I mean, I know I’m important, and my mom knows it, but when did Manny’s bait, tackle, and business cards decide that I’m hot shit? I’ve purposely avoided discussing the business while it’s still in the oven. (Are you feeling dizzy from that blinding switch of metaphors?)
Successful people have worked hard to get where they are today. They’ve spent sleepless nights with a pack of Twinkies, a cup of coffee, and delusions of grandeur … or maybe that’s just me. Do these marketing yahoos know that I drive a Corolla, eat pork and beans, and live 3 miles from a landfill? You can get a good buzz when the wind is coming from the north.
It makes me wonder how famous people handle all the attention. Even world renowned authors will occasionally pick their noses and scratch their butts. I’m pretty sure they don’t roll out of bed looking like their press photos.
I have yet to see “internationally acclaimed” or “bestselling” before my job title, but I have me and that’s a pretty good start. Make no mistake, I probably won’t remember your birthday, and if you and I are in a burning building, I’ll probably crawl over your unconscious body to get out. I’m not built for altruism, but I get all warm and fuzzy thinking that what I’m doing now can help a lot of good people.
I’ll keep you posted on this new middle-aged adventure once things are up and running. I’m not really good at bluster and bullshit, so you’ll definitely hear about my glorious failures along with the success stories. Continuing to write is a given, so there will always be coffee, Twinkies, and laughter. Delusions are optional.