I always knew my shoe obsession would pay off one day…
It’s OK, you can stand down the vigil, folks, I didn’t die of a massive hangover after Friday night’s excesses – I may be old, but I’m not quite that old. Yet.
No, there have been no posts here on the old blawg over the last few days, because I’ve been busy blogging elsewhere, particularly over at Shoewawa, which I’ve just been made editor of. Go me! This is obviously very exciting for me because it means I get to spend even more time every day looking at shoes and writing about them and I get paid for it. As far as work goes, I really don’t think it gets much better than that, and I sometimes wish I could go back in time to sit down with my younger self, way back in the days when I was working weekends in call centre, or doing some other job I hated, and say, "Fear not, young Jedi, for one day you will be paid to write about shoes. A shoe blogger you will be! Much you have to learn! And also: don’t bother renting The Cable Guy, because seriously, that film sucks."
So yes, that’s what I’d say to my younger self. I’d also make the time to stop by the desks of everyone who ever made fun of my shoes, and flip them the bird I would! GOD, I wish I could go back in time and meet my younger self. Preferably during that period when I used to wear "pelmet skirts", so that I could take myself aside and give myself a quick kick in the butt.
Anyway, this change to my blogging workload is also exciting because it effectively means that I can now afford to drop the boring old copywriting and be all about the blogging, all the time. I’ll still do the odd bit of feature writing for the newspapers (if, of course, the newspapers in question will still have me), but I guess this makes me one of them pro-blogger thingummies now, for real. I don’t think my younger self ever dreamt of being a pro-blogger when she grew up, so she probably wouldn’t be too impressed with that (mostly because I am so old that blogging hadn’t even been invented when I was a young ‘un. And also because my younger self was a bit of an ass), but if I told her the bit about the shoes, and about how you get to work from home and only get dressed when it’s absolutely necessary, I think she’d be down with it. And if she wasn’t, teach her I would.
I’ll stop talking like Yoda now. No, I really will.