 I think, quite possibly — maybe even very likely — I will have the opportunity to go to Florida for one whole week in October. WHEEEEEE!
This is a big deal because it will be my first real vacation since I started my business in September 2012. It will also be the first time I’ve visited a beach since — gasp! — 2009. Oh sweet Lord, has it really been that long? How did I let this happen? See, if I lived in a different era (and a different state), I would have totally been a beach bunny. I love, love LOVE the ocean. The sand, the sounds, the smell, the salt water … it is truly my own little slice of heaven. It doesn’t even matter which ocean, or which beach. I’ve been to Gulf Shores and Orange Beach in Alabama; Destin, Fort Walton Beach and Panama City in Florida; Baker and Stinson beaches in Northern California; and several breathtaking stretches of sand and surf on the island of Maui. I adored each one, but I’m not gonna lie — Maui far outpaced all the others. I will go back there someday, mark my words. My upcoming trip will be to Bonita Beach, near Fort Myers, Fla., and I can’t wait to perch my ass in the sand there for the first time.
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 I’m really fortunate today to live a comfortable, middle-class existence. I’ve owned a cute, cozy, two-bedroom bungalow in the Highlands for 10 years.
I have an ancient car that runs OK but isn’t pretty to look at. But, if I need to replace it sometime soon, I could swing the added payments with very little hardship. My business has been steady and successful so far, and I cannot emphasize enough just how much I love being my own boss. Sure, I’ve got some debt, the house is always going to need some work, and I can’t afford to travel the world right this minute. Life ain’t perfect, but the intangibles of peace and serenity make up for any material things I might lack at the moment. Truly, I have everything I need and most everything I want. That wasn’t always the case. I’ve never lived in a cardboard box, but I definitely started at the bottom … in a crappy apartment with a minimum-wage job. When my son, Ethan, was small, we were even on food stamps for a couple of years. I wrote a bit about that time in our lives here.  This past weekend, I was honored to be one of the presenters at the Women Who Write conference. My topic was “Blogging … with Purpose.” I don’t know if a single soul got anything useful out of my talk, but no one fell asleep or walked out midway through, so as far as I am concerned, it was a success.
Now, I don’t pretend to be any kind of expert on blogging. I was very up front with the organizers about that little detail, and they still wanted me to impart what I know. This post is intended to be a summary of what I shared. I don’t make a living with this little blog. You may have noticed that I don’t sell any advertising on it. I have no objection to doing that, but I cannot imagine who would want to buy it, and I don’t have the time or inclination to find out. I’ve been blogging once a week for almost two years in this space, as an extension of my professional website. I also ghostblog (lookie there, I just made up a new word!) for several clients. (Side note: my audience this weekend was other writers, most of whom have never blogged, so I focused my presentation on tips that would help them launch their craft in an online forum. Blogging for business is a little bit different animal.)  I have a lot of alcoholics and addicts in my life. The majority of them are what I would call non-practicing, but there are a few still swirling around in the madness.
The ones in recovery all have one thing in common: they have taken responsibility for their actions. Yes, they have a sickness of the mind, but they don’t blame any outside forces for their fate. Once martyrs and victims, they now can recognize the active participation they each played in the progression of their disease and own up to it. And when I say “they,” I am including myself in the bunch. (I may get up on a soapbox here for a sec, so bear with me.) I met up with a friend from high school this past week I had not seen since we graduated. We connected on Facebook a few years ago, and he was in town from Washington, D.C. , visiting family here. Kevin is a really good dude, and I was happy to see him. Understandably though, we spent a good chunk of our conversation over dinner chatting about other high school chums. “Whatever happened to …” and “Did you hear about …?” |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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