I didn’t want to change. I enjoy the coziness of a comfort zone, with its heated seats of security and its dual-control predictability. It’s like a luxury line of routines.
Until I get distracted by the fancy features and end up in a wreck.
It isn’t plastic, metal, and engine that goes boom that got mushed but Budget Life List (BuLL).
Yep. I am changing things up (again), but this time I am telling you about it.
What can I say? Growth happens.
Strange to Change
As much as I love routines, it’s not a great look for writing. Progress has not equaled growth, and I needed to reflect about that.
One thought was, I am not giving readers what they want.
A few of my articles have found their way to larger platforms, but people don’t seem to stick around very long.
Like when I go out to coffee with a new friend.
We have a fondness for hot beverages, joke about weird things our husbands do, and complain about the ails of modern society like traffic, crazy neighbors, and politics (pre-pandemic people!).
We say our happy goodbyes, and I encourage her to text with the next coffee date.
Only to never to hear from her again.
Yep, BuLL is being ghosted.
It’s starting to feel personal after a year of blogging, so after some
painful self-critiques, it’s time to push this baby BuLL into some strange to change.
Less is More
Like a glowing pink sunrise, or a creamy cup of coffee, or even the ultimate delight, a hot, uninterrupted bath, biweekly BuLL posts are winding down to once a week – Wednesdays.
Because two posts a week are over-crowding my happiness. I end up more concerned about getting things cobbled together than the actual joy of writing. This “hurry up” mentality is like a demon vacuum cleaner sucking all the fun out of blogging.
Wednesday seems like a better fit for posts than Friday. Fridays are for delicious anticipation of sleeping in, binging on Netflix, and sweatpants.
So. Many. Words.
To make up for fewer posts, the posts will be longer, like some twisted logic of less but more.
My loose goal is for a post to be over 1,000 words but drifting towards 1,500.
There are many reasons for this including, I want to expand my storytelling skills. Which means more descriptions. I cant do that in 500 words.
I’m sure English teachers everywhere are nodding in silent agreement.
I also want to increase BuLL’s search engine optimization (SEO), which is fancy web lingo for getting the BuLL higher on search results.
Then there is the fact I don’t want to be intimidated when I write professional articles. Recently, I was published with the National Association of Interpretation (NAI) Legacy magazine.
I pitched my idea for an article about how I developed an escape room for the medical treatment of the 1800s. Which included “curing” people by making them vomit, bleed, or sweat. Nothing says, feel better like a bowl full of leeches!
The article was accepted and I started mentally collecting my literary awards. Until the editor said, “I need 1,500 words by next month.” Um, what?!
Even though I can write, edit, and publish a 500-word post in an hour or two, 1,500 felt like a lot. The difference between a four-door sedan and a school bus of screaming kids wanting ice cream.
In the end, I focused and got it done. But, I decided I could do better. Dang it, I should do better.
You, me, and BuLL are now going along for a strange to change kinda ride. To get ice cream apparently.
All the Sorrys
Also, you deserve an apology. I apologize, BuLL Crew. I am typically vague with things, like my age and income.
It is hard to face the truth of being a 35-year-old who has yet to make over $30,000 a year. I shouldn’t feel shame, embarrassment, or want to hide under a table, but that’s what I feel when I bare my finances.
Everyone feels awkward after seeing that.
But, I think about all the amazing authors who have been honest and vulnerable. It’s those moments that make their stories so compelling, interesting, and human.
When I share my financial story with in-person humans, I typically share those painful truths. Maybe that is why people listen. Or they could be kind humans who appreciate my blubbering, either way, they find solace in my struggles.
Perhaps, you will too.
So. I just wanted you to know. You have patiently stuck by my side for this ride and I appreciate that and you. Here is a little something to express my gratitude.
Just for you.
I am wrapping up this rambling strange to change. I felt compelled to warn you, encase you were wondering why things were getting weird.
What’s growth without geeky glasses, bad hair, and awkward laughter?