I've never blogged; I don't believe in Blogs and I don't pretend that my Blog will be worth anyone's time. I also refuse to read others' blogs unless I'm directly referred, and that only assures one viewing on one day - I will not subscribe to a Blog. That said, I realize the Blog's place in our time and I know that my outlook is akin to that of our grandparents & modern technology - "
why do I need a cell phone, this antique rotary phone suits me just fine." If that's what it is, chalk me up in Meema's column.
It's Not That I'm Old, Your Music Really Does Suck - that's another way to analogize this.
However, this rant is not meant to be an Anti-Bloggian missive. The reality is that the aforementioned 'time' concept - and my lack thereof due to my professional role - is precisely why I will not commit to reading, nor doing, a Blog. My life as a whole is a race against the clock. I think it began at Birth; I'm an Only Child and the last in my blood line, so from Day One, I've shouldered the responsibility of carrying my family crest, whatever that's worth. And as neurotic as I am, laced with perpetual guilt and nagging, this obligation has stared me in the face and some would argue - determined my every moment of restlessness.
Because every moment is restless, a segue which this time hopefully allows me to return to the topic at hand, that which is NOT Blogs, NOT restlessness, NOT me, but Affiliate Marketing. The Land Where the Restlessnesters Reign Supreme, building and swooping and eyeballing and protecting and nurturing offers. I can't think straight while I expand my flock; I'm lucky if I can even dream of expansion in the first place. Sticks and branches are thrown askew by my yearlings, and my nurtured young leave the nest never to return. . .this is hellacious, as is my hectic manic existence, even if it discombobulates my every thought and mannerism, rendering me nothing more than an ground-strewn pile of ash in the aftermath of a Pacific Coast arson.
