Friday, July 23, 2021

The right words at the right time

Every month I have a project for a car client. It's difficult for me. I know/care nothing about cars. Writing to SEO interferes with the natural flow of my copy. Every month I feel like I could/should do this faster and more efficiently. Every month I feel like I'm failing.

I posted about it on Facebook and my old boss reached out. He'd been watching Mad Men again and said every time he saw Peggy, he thought of me. He told me he's sure I'm doing better than I think I am, that I've always been able "to do anything."  

When he sees her, he thinks me

It was very kind of him to do. His timing was perfect, too. I needed to hear it.

And maybe he was right. I received an email filled with stats from the car client. My blog posts have generated 48% more traffic, with people spending 2 minutes or more on the top-performing articles. They are reading what I write. I'm serving my client well. 

The process isn't pretty, but the results are effective.

I don't know why this annoyed me so, but it did

I've been consumed by the Recurring Project, which hits every month. I hate it because, while I have been successful at it, the work process is fucking painful. I posted about it on Facebook Monday afternoon, writing: "3:00 and I'm still in my PJs. Dirty hair and smeared mascara. But I just finished The Big Project. There are things about WFH I'll miss." It got 11 "likes" and 2 "ha ha's."

Kathy, 70+ and retired, commented, "I seriously had to look up WFH. Does not bode well for my aging brain." I clicked "like" because, well, what else could I do? I wish there was an "I just acknowledge" button.

Today -- more than 72 hours later -- she commented again: "Dang! I had to look it up again! Old and hopeless but still friggin sassy (ooops wonder what friggin is?) YAY it means used to emphasize or express annoyance with someone or something (cheers)."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Is she going to come back to this post and comment on it every 3 days until I die and the account is closed? 

She has been talking about her memory issues for three years now. She refuses to mention it to a doctor. Every few weeks she'll mention it in the past tense: "I used to have trouble with memory, but it fixed itself." Alternately, she brings it up like it's some kind of joke.

It's not a joke. It's making her life smaller. Our friends, John and Gregory, avoid her because talking to her is too depressing. I'm not there yet, but I get it. She's difficult. When I talk to her on the phone, she notes what I say. Literally. She'll say, "Slow down, I want to make a note of that." She has texted me photos of random things I've said during calls and she'll ask me for context. "Who is TIMOTHY NAFTALI? Why did you mention him?"

I know she's scared. I know she's suffering. I know I should be more patient. 

Right now I'm as pissed at myself as I am annoyed with her.

THIS JUST IN: She came back to my post a third fucking time to define WFH "because I forgot again. Y'all can thank me." No, Kathy. No one will thank you because everyone either already knew what WFH meant, figured it out from the context, looked it up or doesn't give a shit. GET HELP!


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