You’re wondering why I’m here, why I’ve started this blog. I can relate. I’m wondering the same thing.
You see, I have this reoccurring nightmare:
I look over at my alarm clock, 4:17. Daylight approaches. The sound of rain beating the earth outside my window, thunder rumbles. I sit at my desk. My room dark except for the light from my computer screen. The rotating fan bathes me in cool air. It feels nice on my exposed balls. The Miley Cyrus sex tape is buffering, it’s at 83 percent. I wait expectantly.
Lightning strikes close to the house. My room shakes. Pedro, my pet cat, leaps onto my keyboard and manages to hit the backspace key forcing my browser to go back a page. “Bastard, cat!” I push him. He doesn’t budge. “I had been waiting fifteen fucking minutes for that to load!” I toss a steak across the room. Pedro chases after it. It’s rough having a pet tiger.
It’s best not to waste any more time waiting for the video to load. I forgo the dry rub. Maybe I’ll do some work in one of my computer science classes. Maybe I’ll do some programming exercises. Head over to Project Euler? No. Maybe I should do some research and finally start that blog.
Link after link, minutes pass and then hours. I can’t find anything that sparks my creative genius. No porn either. “This is all bullshit.” I mutter. I decide to head over to a couple of my favorite blogs, Cal Newport’s and Scott Young’s. I search through the archives. I find their first posts. Nothing elaborate, kind of boring. Humble beginnings.
I look through some more of their posts, I realize a trend. I rush back to google. I do a search. My results return nothing but: ‘how to start a blog’ links. Another search. Again I’m overwhelmed with ‘how to make money online’, ‘how to make money blogging’.
My hands tremble.
One last search. I hit enter.
Light floods the room. The crackling of thunder follows. I scream out in horror. The search results: ‘how to write a blog post’, ‘100 blog post ideas’, ’10 rules for a successful blog’, ‘God blogs in his underwear’. Despair.
A tear streams down my cheek. Pedro growls. I snap him a glance. His mouth opens, enormous fangs reveal themselves. Then, with a British accent he says, “You should blog about cats.”