So last night was traumatic. I am something of a muppet where technology is concerned and I have sweated over every page, widget and plug-in on my modest little website over the last 6 or so weeks. I’ve done it all myself, a labour of love and it feels all the more precious to me because it’s completely mine. But when I logged on last night to write a post, it didn’t work. I couldn’t get into the site at all, there was just huge error message on the screen.
So I waited for a bit, and it didn’t go away. Did all the usual stuff you know…pushed the same buttons again and again just a bit harder, thinking I might get different results…sound familiar?! Now bear in mind, my default setting when the shit hits the fan has always been to reach for cake. I could hear the asshole in my head yawning and having a good stretch as he woke up and started to take an interest.
So, I was worried on three fronts – firstly that my posse would wonder where I’d disappeared to…secondly that Crabby’s lovely readers would find me closed for business if they popped over to check out my blog after she’d very kindly lent her support by offering me a moment in the Cranky Fitness spotlight – and finally that I wouldn’t be able to post anything.
When I decided to blog my way to skinny, I promised myself that I’d be the best blogger I could possibly be. And that means posting consistently so that if I was lucky enough to pick up some company, you’d all know those words would be waiting for you at the point when you take time out of your day to check in and see what’s on my mind. Of course, being me I’ve taken that quite literally, and I even try and post at the same time every day (the asshole just chuntered something about OCD but I’m ignoring him).
I’m not going to lie, as it all started to go wrong I could feel that compulsion to eat – encouraged of course by the asshole who told me over and over “it’s an emergency so it’s ok, just have a cup of tea and a couple of hobnobs…it won’t matter just this once .” I ignored him. So he carried on. And on, and on.
I ended up having an on-line chat with a charming guy in India who did his best to help – not just some random bloke obviously, I mean someone from tech support for my web host. I narrowly avoided typing “SOD OFF ASSHOLE I’M NOT EATING HOBNOBS” in the conversation window because the asshole was pulling out all the stops, having recognised the amount of buttons on show for him to push whilst I was talking to the tech to the point where it was practically a three-way conversation. Anyway, turns out the server was down and I just had to tough it out – so for anyone who wondered where I’d got to last night, I’m sorry yesterday’s post was late.
Of course now, without my stressy head on, and with the perspective of hindsight I can see I was acting like a total diva – shit happens woman, get over it. And it’s interesting how quickly the whole purpose I’m blogging got lost in the excitement of discovering that people seem to like my blog…I started it for me, as a way of being accountable, and it’s working. The rest, as they say, is gravy…note to self, don’t let go of that. I care about my blog, I care about my posse but most of all I can’t forget to care about me!
Anyway, I didn’t go near the biscuits in case you’re wondering, and the asshole has been licking his wounds today after I shoved him back in his box and slammed the lid shut. Once again, Me – 1, Asshole – 0. And happily, normal service has resumed today 🙂
