I just hate when my real job gets in the way of my fake job, or whatever one would consider what I do. Klout score is for sure in the tank, I’m borderline afraid to look, I’ve tweeted like 3x since Monday because every time I check twitter I'm like 300 tweets behind, which leads to a serious case of twitter-anxiety and I just scroll past all the old updates and pretend they never happened.
I’m easily more distraught about my fake job (blogging) and my klout score and corresponding tweet rep than I am my real job, my ceo’s talk of “rightsizing” (corporate horse shit for layoffs) or caring one bit about some whining self absorbed complaints of clients in positions much greater than mine, with much less common sense than I have.
I'm far more disappointed when I log in to Twitter to see I lost 3 followers (presumably spammers but every person counts) than I would be to get into work today and be reamed out by my bosses, dead serious. I took a day off from blogging yesterday and I felt more guilty than I've ever felt about banging out on a "sick day."
What I can't figure out is how this level of dedication to this weird little internet fiefdom I've created has resulted in so little fame and riches, honestly thought by now I'd be blogging on some oversized yacht with T-Pain serenading me with "I'm on a Boat." Guess it doesn't quite work that way.
