Sorry--this is another from this summer but off to great-grandfather's house we go . . )

Start a blog. Tell yourself you’re only doing it because you enjoy expressing yourself and it is a great way to keep a journal. No one actually needs to read it!

Start looking at other people’s blogs to get an idea of what they are doing. Notice that they are acquiring what are called Comments. Wonder how you can get comments on your blog.

Remind yourself that this is just for you. And parents and grandparents. Perhaps extended family, as well. Then start a contest because that’s what the popular bloggers are doing.

Watch your contest crash and burn. Wonder why it hurts so much. Wonder why it matters so much. Wonder why it makes it hard to breathe.

Install Sitemeter into your account so you can see just how many hits a day you are getting (or not). Wonder again why it matters.

Start stalking blogs and wonder what you are doing wrong. Wonder if your contest would have done better if you were giving away something good. Like an Iphone.

Start saving for an Iphone.

Do more blog stalking (a must!). Notice that there are a lot of great blogs out there with really great writers. Feel mopey and blue without knowing why.

Start another lame contest. Watch it, too, go down in flames. Give up chocolate Lindt balls in order to save more money for Iphone.

Start signing up for every blog list available. Rejoice when your Sitemeter stats shows all the readers who are being referred to your blog from these sites. Start buying chocolate Lindt balls again.

Finally admit to yourself that you want your blog to be read by everyone. On the planet. In the universe.

Start making oh-so-witty and amusing comments on other blogs to draw attention to yourself.

Make your blog stats unavailable because that is what the popular bloggers do. Rejoice over your measly 30 hits per day. Tell yourself you are now too busy blogging to comment on the blogs of others. Watch your daily hits drop.

Observe helplessly as your few regulars drop away, one by one, like flies in a jar of camphor.

Get in the car and head for the coast.

Call your husband and ask him to get you. Wait, curled up on the floor of your seedy motel room, until he arrives.Reject all of his efforts to get you help. Say over and over again, “I’m fine, I’m okay, I just need my daily dose.”

When you get home, log onto your Sitemeter account. Note that the blissful feeling that comes over you is akin to that of euphoria when the pain meds kick in during labor.Try to ignore the fact that things aren’t any better—in fact they are worse after your time away.

Start plotting your revenge. Sneak into the Sitemeter headquarters and attach yourself to the motherboard (you’ll figure it out when you get there). Go out in a hail of fiery sparks but not before you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are taking Sitemeter down with you.

Epilogue: Sitemeter is up and running a mere 24 hours later but you are dead. People all over the world mourn your loss even though they never heard of you or read your blog before your death. Your blog now gets 50,000 hits per day even though you haven’t posted anything new since your untimely demise. Your husband saves all the money the blog has made from ads and goes to Tahiti where he runs off with a beautiful native.