I continued to ignore the voice until I learned about blogging. I was equally fascinated and intimidated by the concept of exploiting my life in the blogosphere, where I could be either loved or ridiculed for my views. But I figured, what the heck? What did I have to lose other than my dignity (that ship sailed LONG ago)!?
With a glass of Chardonnay in one hand and my laptop in the other, I composed my first blog post, which was much easier to write after the third glass of vino (*see "First Menopausal Moment" 8/27/11).
Starting a blog was one of the best decisions I have made, but not without some sacrifice. My addiction to blogging has created setbacks in other areas of my Donna Reed lifestyle; changes that my family hasn't wholeheartedly embraced:
* I seldom have time to run the vacuum cleaner these days---you could knit a sweater and matching scarf set with the amount of dog hair embedded in my carpets.
* I discovered that the microwave is a mother's best friend. I've learned to be creative when it comes to putting dinner together. Each night it's a surprise smorgasbord of leftovers from the dark depths of my freezer, also known as No Man's Land. Amazing what you can create with a lone hotdog, a sad-looking waffle and a bag of freezer burned peas.
* A raging caffeine addiction. Forget the coffee pot. Just give me the whole damn bag of coffee and I'll chew on the grounds like it was granola. My husband claims that caffeine overload has turned me into a whirling dervish (a.k.a. Tazmanian Devil). It's all fun and games until I'm wide awake, sitting alone in the dark at 3:00 a.m. and wondering if I should join a nocturnal commune of bats.
* Due to the aforementioned insomnia, my eyes are often puffy and ringed dark like my new cousin the raccoon. If I keep this up much longer, the airlines are going to charge me double for the extra baggage I'm carrying under my eyes. The pale pallor of my skin after a restless night doesn't help, either. I'm thinking I should apply for a job as an extra on the set of The Walking Dead.
* My husband thinks I have gone underground in the witness protection program because he never sees me. The untouched stash of Butterfinger candy bars is evidence that I've been missing for a long time.
* I stare at the computer screen so much now that I've upgraded my 1.5 readers to 2.5. Just last week I enrolled my pet pug into a seeing eye dog class so he can navigate me from my refrigerator to my home office. I just need to teach him how to post a blog with his front paws.
* I'm always looking for new blog followers. If my husband was more agreeable, I'd dress him up like a giant Cheeto and have him dance along Federal Highway with my website address plastered across his orange belly.
* My nightmares have turned into blogmares, and they always have something to do with Teletubbies and Mothra. Freud would have a field day with that one.
* My family finally figured out that I haven't done laundry in months. You can only get away with spritzing dirty clothes with Febreeze for so long.
* Lack of exercise. I used to power walk six miles a day. Now I'd rather stay home, eat pancakes and become a blogger blob.
Sacrifices? Plenty. The cost of a good blog post? Priceless!