I went in here to work on a post that's coming up, and when I looked at my list of posts, there was a new link next to one which said, "1 comment." I was amazed. A comment, me? I clicked, and saw that in fact, someone had commented on a post. Most importantly, this someone wasn't my mother. Unless this is an elaborate scheme...no, she seems trustworthy enough.
But a comment! Proof of audience existence! I check my page views every so often, and I see the numbers rising, but a comment in the hand is worth about 50 views in the bush. That just sounds wrong, but you get the point. I was always rationalizing my page views with the possibility that most of them were me on my way to writing posts. But you're out there, and I don't know all of you. It's a weird realization. I wrote the first post for this blog and no one read it, and now it's out there, and people are reading it for the value of the words rather than obligation to me. I'm just completely tickled at the idea!
Of course, the paranoid side of my personality did eventually kick in with the thought that having readers who like the blog means that I could soon write a post which is not as good. Yes, my second thought after receiving any sort of acclaim is the possibility of failing to even greater disappointment. This is the curse of my psyche. But I have been figuratively dope-slapped by my mother, so I'm pushing that out of my mind. Hope a few people get the 'Car Talk' reference.
So thank you, gat, for taking the time to comment. It was an adventure in discovery, happiness and fear. All the makings of a great day. And I'm still smiling.