A Sherpa To Guide Me...

Thirty days isn't so tough, right? Nahhh. Nothing to it.

Then why am I sitting here staring at this blank screen, flicking my finger up and down against my upper lip, asking myself, "I wonder if I should tell them that I'm sitting here flicking my finger against my upper lip?"

And after much deep thought, I've decided that, no, I'm not going to reveal that I am, in fact, flicking my finger up and down against my upper lip. You don't need to know that anyway.

I got an e-mail last night from a friend who's been following this blog from the start. She's been the bearer of more than a few compliments along the way, and has also made it known when I've gone into hibernation a few times that there's something missing from her morning reading at work, and when the hell am I going to start posting again?

It's nice to be missed.

Anyway, last night she commented on this whole big hoopla that is NaBlahBlahBlah, and likened it to one of her favorite shows on the Discovery Channel, "Climbing Mount Everest."

"Sometimes I bet you feel like you could use a Sherpa," she wrote.

That line killed me. And I decided I had to thank my Sherpa for the evening, for giving me some words to build on tonight.

I think maybe this endeavor is just a tiny bit easier than scaling Everest, but I thought it was a super analogy, and it gave me a little bit of extra motivation.

As I click around the NaBloPoMo community, I've gotten to read dozens of new blogs. Some are spectacular and worthy of an instant bookmark. Others are somewhat engaging. And still others are...um...not. But it's a great lesson in seeing what's out there. I see some posts getting shorter, and some bloggers voicing their concern over how much quality they can continue to offer as November rolls on. Day. By Day.

My buddy Jeff even threatened to start writing Ronco infomercials if he didn't get some inspiration soon. I feel a little guilty about that, because I'm the one that roped him into this in the first place. And by "roped in," I really mean "sent an e-mail and gently suggested," so I guess...hmm...nope, maybe I don't feel guilty after all! He'll do fine. He's a writer, after all.

Thing is...if I don't find some extra motivation a couple hours from now and write a post shortly after midnight for my Tuesday requirement, then I'll be faced with the same dilemma that brought me home early from darts last week. Blogging responsibilities.

Pretty soon I'm going to start inventorying (whatever. it's a verb to me.) my sock drawer, and sharing its contents with the blogiverse:

5 pairs black socks
3 pairs brown socks
5 pairs blue socks
6 pairs tube socks, crew length (2 with substandard elastic)

By the end of the month, I guarantee you...it's going to be riveting stuff.

Last night's e-mail ended with: "When you get to the summit without using any oxygen at all, and only three of your fingers have turned black due to keying frostbite...it will be worth it!"

Thanks, Gerbs. As small of a moral victory as it may be, you're right. It'll be worth it. Although...minus three digits, I'll become pretty much of a hunt-and-peck typist, and will have to shorten my blog entries to the Cliff's Notes versions. Gotta take the good with the bad, right?

"Winners take time to relish their work,
knowing that scaling the mountain is what

makes the view from the top so exhilarating."
—Denis Waitley