It started with pie.
I’m not really sure what kind of pie it was but that doesn’t matter because everyone likes some kind of pie at some point in time. The time, this time was in my dream and people were carving up the pie like they will carve up their telecommunications data once David’s dream comes true. I was writing words about pies in my sleep.
But that isn’t the dream that I’ve been thinking about. My dream has to do with writing. Writing is what writers do and that’s all I want to do. I can’t look at any more jobs that need digital marketers – it makes me crazy. I can’t believe how many job ads are screaming for social media managers as if social media is something that can be managed. I just want to write and perhaps that was the true attraction to social media in the first place. A status update here, a bit of news shared there, all covered in my sticky fingerprints.
That’s not real writing though is it? Real writing is published properly. It is edited and submitted and reviewed and edited and branded and stamped and numbered and promoted. So much painful process beyond the initial act of writing means that as a job it is probably no different to any other job I’ve held…
except for once I might actually be happy doing it.