Note: This review is not sponsored by Hello Fresh in any way.

I was lucky enough to receive a free box from meal delivery service Hello Fresh. I received three meals of two servings each, which was great because then I had dinner and leftovers for lunch the next day. They provided pre-selected meals, but allowed me to go in and make my own choices. I received the box on September seventeenth, which was pretty prompt. It was an intimidatingly large box, but what was inside were three paper bags sealed with labels for each meal, and three small packages of meat. The rest was packaging.

First Meal: Korean Beef Bibimbap.

I… ate this one before I decided to write this post. So, no picture.

Let me start off by saying that this meal was neither Korean nor bibimbap. It was a bowl of steamed rice with some fried ground beef and sauteed vegetables on top, with a soy based sauce. This may sound like a bibimbap, but it was missing some key elements, like pickled vegetables (kimchi, specifically) and the chile that is renowned in Korean cuisine, gochukaru. I used both of the packets of sriracha that were included with the ingredients, and it still tasted bland to me.

The ingredients seemed fresh and of good quality, with the exception of the green onion, which was wilted, and the ginger, which was so venerable as to be rubbery. I can understand that it would be hard to ship green onions without them aging a bit but in my experience, ginger is pretty hardy and if shipped fresh should have arrived in good condition.

The instructions for the meal were straight forward and easy to follow. Shaving the carrots into strips using a vegetable peeler (we have a Y-peeler at home) was time consuming and difficult, though it may have been easier with a straight peeler. While the steps in cooking the recipe weren’t difficult, it sure used a lot of dishes. Lots of little bowls that will all need to be washed, plus two pans. I wanted to cook the rice in the rice cooker but it was too small an amount to do so.

While neither Korean nor bibimbap, this meal once finished was tasty and filling, much better than a frozen dinner, but not nearly as good as actual Korean food. It probably feels more disappointing than it actually is because of that. Maybe better to call it an asian rice bowl.

I rate it 3/5.

Second Meal: Tuscan Sausage and Pepper Spaghetti.

This one came together much more easily, with way fewer bowls used. The ingredients seemed to be fresher in this bag, and it really only used two pans and a cutting board. When I saw it included crushed tomatoes as a part of the sauce I was hesitant because crushed tomatoes often taste overly salty or overly sweet to me. I plowed ahead anyway.

The ingredients included a packet labeled “Tuscan Heat Spice,” which seemed odd to me. You could just call it a Tuscan spice blend or something, especially since the finished meal wasn’t hot to me at all.

Tuscan Heat Spice.

Also, the instructions said to remove the sausage from the casings and throw the casings away, which brought to mind the question, why put them in casings at all? We all know you can buy bulk sausage; putting them in casings doesn’t do anything special to the sausage if you’re not cooking it in the casing and not curing or smoking the sausage, and it was already packaged in plastic, so it didn’t need further containment.

The meal came together easily, and was very tasty when it was finished. The peppers still had a little crispness to them, which was quite pleasing. The sausage and the sauce were both well seasoned, but the spices used in both seemed close to identical, leaving the finished dish somewhat one-note. The sausage was more notable for the difference in texture than a difference in flavor. Still, much better than canned spaghetti sauce, and easier than long cooking homemade tomato sauces.

This dish made a huge amount of food. It could easily have been three or four servings, especially with a side salad. I was stuffed after eating one serving as it stood.

I rate it 4/5.

Third Meal: Figgy Balsamic Pork.

I saved this one for last because I was a little overwhelmed by the idea of cooking a main and two sides in thirty-five minutes.

The meal kit came with two pieces of pork loin, which was nice; I wouldn’t have to portion them out myself. The green beans were nice and clean and fresh, and I didn’t have to pick any out for having soft spots. There were only three things to cut, rosemary, a single shallot, and the potatoes.

Putting the meal together went more smoothly than I expected. I got the potatoes in the oven, and it took me about ten minutes to get the green beans and the pork ready to go in, between tossing the beans in oil with salt and pepper, and searing the pieces of pork. Then another twelve minutes or so and the whole thing was done. I was amazed. So the recipe card is good, and the timing works out well. It’s clear that the recipes are being well tested before being sent out to the public, which is nice.

The roast potatoes were uninspiring, with a leathery surface where they browned and a dense but fully cooked interior. They didn’t brown up like the potatoes in the photos on the recipe card.

I used aluminum foil on both sheet pans for easier cleanup. I personally think this could have been cooked on one large sheet pan but I followed the instructions anyway.

The beans were tasty, though a little overcooked for my preference.

The pan sauce was cool because the process of making it teaches how to make a basic pan sauce, including adding aromatics and flavorful liquid, reducing, and mounting with butter. So while I’ve done that (many) times before, I could see how it would teach people with less experience in the kitchen a new skill, and I like that. I think everyone should learn to cook.

As for the finished product, the pork was cooked perfectly, with just a hint of pink on the inside. The pan sauce didn’t taste as much of fig as I’d hoped, and was a little sweeter than I normally prefer, but it was tasty.

I rate it 3/5.

In Conclusion.

My experience with Hello Fresh was a good one. I felt a little bit of pressure to get everything cooked before it spoiled, so I couldn’t get lazy and have an egg burrito instead. Despite the large amount of packaging, the brown bags that the ingredients are packaged in fit nicely in the fridge and it was easy to just pull out the one I was cooking.

I noticed that the bag has a little message about greenness on it:

I thought this was brilliant; it hints at another benefit of Hello Fresh that dovetails with the image of freshness communicated by the other branding materials. Though this message is a bit undercut by the copious amounts of packets and tiny bottles and jars that contained liquid ingredients, plus the plastic bags and boxes that contained some of the produce.

For those looking to pick up basic cooking skills, this would be a good way to learn. The instruction cards are clear and specific, and most importantly the instructions work.

For those with more money than time, I did find that these came together in around a half hour (with the exception of the bibimbap, with its time consuming carrot shaving), and the results were tasty and filling, each with some amount of vegetables, meats, and starches (though perhaps a bit heavy on the starch and light on the veggies, but that may just be the recipes I chose).

I did cancel my account with Hello Fresh, because the cost was around $60.00, including shipping, for two servings each of three meals. That comes out to around ten dollars a serving. If you’re someone who tends to eat out a lot, that’s a great deal, because it will save you money over going to a restaurant, and you’ll learn kitchen skills to boot. But for me, with experience in the kitchen and the time to shop for groceries, I can spend that $60.00 on a week’s worth of groceries, so it’s not such a bargain for me.

I love stationery. I buy stationery that I don’t need, that I may never use, just because I love it and I want it. I struggle to find places to store all the stationery I have, and I shop for more. I have four different pen organizers on my desk at home, and they’re full.

Why Stationery?

I remember when I first fell in love with stationery. I was in my mid-teens, and I was in a store in Singapore, and I found the most adorable note cards. I bought them, because they were cute and funny and weird, and I took them home. Now, almost thirty years later, I still have one of those cards, stashed away in my stationery hoard. The rest are gone, I have sent them to people or given them away with gifts. But I still have this one treasure from my first dalliance with stationery.

New stationery transports me to a place where everything is fresh and clean and new and everything works. Nothing is a struggle; nothing needs to be tidied or repaired. I guess you could get this feeling from any new thing, but I don’t. There’s something about running your hand over brand new paper, about hearing the click of popping the cap off a new pen for the very first time.

I’m sure it has to do with writing, too. I’m a writer and an author, and we write all the damn time. I have in my youth written out entire chapters of novels on yellow legal pads with Bic ballpoint pens. I have put down notes on bar napkins.

The Meditative Quality of Hand Writing.

I really love writing things by hand, I take all my notes in lecture by hand, and write in a journal by hand, and there’s a way that the tactile interaction with the words that you’re creating connects you to the work, whatever work that may be.

Because of my arthritis, there are days when it hurts to hold a pen, but I do it anyway.

Having good quality tools to hand write with is important. The right pen can make hand writing things a joy. The right line thickness, the right amount of ink. I write quickly so I want a pen that just glides across the page when I’m in a hurry. For that sort of thing I typically prefer the Pilot G2, and I have this exact pen in several colors for this reason. Writing with the G2 is very nearly a sensual experience.

Since this pen glides across the paper on a pillow of ink, though, it tends to smudge, which makes it difficult to use for lefties.

I own two fountain pens, and they don’t glide in my experience, but there’s a very soft scratching sound as you drag the nib across the paper that gives me a little shiver down the back of my neck.

Inexpensive Pretty Things.

There are times when you want to own a pretty thing or two. Because I’m in grad school, money is often very tight, and the closest I get to owning pretty things is colorful paper and lovely pens. They’re not a huge monetary investment, so you can try new things without a huge risk.

I take comfort in the ability to buy myself small things that bring me a lot of joy, and I wouldn’t be able to do that with clothing or jewelry or any of the more popular retail therapy items. Even books really start to add up, at fifteen to twenty a piece new. But I can get a pack of diary stickers for six dollars or less. It’s an affordable luxury.

Retail therapy, when taken to extremes, can cause huge problems. But this is a way that I can get myself a treat without putting my ability to pay rent at risk.

The Hoard.

The real problem sets in when my stationery becomes too precious to me to use. I end up holding on to it for a special occasion, and as a result I collect piles of note cards, stacks of small stationery sets, boxes of thank you cards, and loads of pens.

I also sometimes order blind boxes of stationery (sort of a grab bag) just to see what I’ll get, and I’ll openly admit that while opening these boxes and seeing and touching the stationery items is gratifying, most of the stuff I get from these orders goes unused.

I stash them away in an attempt to keep my workspace neat. I consult my list of people that I’ve promised letters to, and sometimes, when I make the time, I extract a piece of pretty paper from its plastic sleeve, and I begin to write a letter.

Not often enough though. I love handwriting letters, and these letters often end up taking the form of personal blog posts, explaining or exploring topics with no prompting from the recipient. A description of someone I spoke with on the bus, or my feelings regarding my new haircut. Sometimes I get very self-conscious about it and stop writing.

I should write more letters. I should do it to make people smile, and to gently chew away at my stationery hoard, slowly making space for new stationery.

When I Can’t Buy, I Watch.

The thing that really blows my mind about this is that I’m not alone. There’s a whole stationery culture online, related to the scrapbooking and bullet journal and planner communities. So when I can’t enjoy brand new stationery of my own, I can watch haul videos.

Haul videos are nothing new, but often they feature clothing or makeup or other beauty and fashion essentials. But man, oh man, the stationery haul videos are the best. You get to see new products to buy, and often you get to watch people swatch their pens (a practice through which they write or draw with the pens to observe the color and quality of the ink and test out the writing experience), and even get reviews of the products. I have added many items to wishlists while watching haul videos.

The haul videos featuring Japanese stationery are the best, because east Asia, for a reason that I have not yet determined, has some of the best stationery out there. Here’s one of my favorite haul videos:

Not only is it one of very few stationery haul videos I’ve seen filmed by a young man, but I find him so charismatic and he’s so visibly excited by what he received.

Wishlists.

Not only do I watch haul videos when I can’t buy, but I shop and add new things to various wishlists. I have a wishlist on Amazon specifically dedicated to this, in fact. I also have a wishlist on JetPens and one on Goulet Pens.

You don’t get exactly the same emotional zing that you would get from actually buying, but it’s still satisfying. You get the feeling of having shopped for a product and found something you were really excited about, and sometimes you have the experience of finding something new and interesting. Not only that, but once it’s on a wishlist, you can always come back and buy it later.

We have a natural inclination to collect resources, and securing these items, whether it’s on a wishlist or in the mail on its way to me, and that tickles that urge for me.

Don’t Let Your Kids do Stationery.

Purchasing stationery really is quite habit forming. Unless your child has a penpal or some other such arrangement that will ensure that they use the stationery, I would not advise letting them get sucked into this world. It can be all-consuming.

So this post should be taken in with the understanding that I am 41 years old. I’m part of the generation that witnessed the beginning of the web, and that remembers a time without it. I am, as they say, an Xennial. Trapped between worlds.

I was there in the BBS days. I was there for Hamster Dance. I witnessed the rampant overuse of the gif. I have seen it all, some through the green monochrome monitor of an Apple IIE.

So I’m not new here. But also, I’m not quite a digital native, either.

There are too many bad websites out there. Even some really professional corporate websites are bad. And I’m here to tell you what I, a middle-aged grad student (clearly everyone’s target market), am looking for in a website.

Don’t Fear White Space.

It’s not just okay that every inch of your website isn’t taken up by widgets and feeds, it’s a good thing.

Personally, I’m an inveterate consumer of content. I have a wicked news habit I just can’t kick and I’m subscribed to more than a hundred podcasts. The stack of books I’m reading dominates the top of my bookshelf (and my personal reading log). So I’ve got a lot rattling around in my head at any given moment.

Extras, like a feed letting me know that someone just bought one of your products popping up in the corner, distract me from your content.

Company name has been edited out because they’re a company I actually really like.

Your use of white space directs the eye to what you want consumers to see. What you want them to interact with. I get that a feed like this functions as social proof, but I think there’s a way to do it that’s less distracting.

You want the design of the site to direct me to what you want me to see, and using white space (and plenty of it) does that. It forces the eye toward your content (or your CTA, or your buy button, or what have you). That doesn’t mean that it has to be all white space; you want a sidebar with other content? Great! I love content, I want to see what else you have to offer me. If it’s intriguing I might stay a while. But keep it simple, and use negative space to direct me around your site.

White space between paragraphs is necessary too. Break up any walls of text. Reading on a screen is already difficult, don’t make it harder than it already is, or you’ll lose me.

Use Animation Sparingly.

I know this stuff can look really slick, right? Finally, a website that moves! Dynamic elements, pieces of text that scroll over the background, reactive menus and other navigation elements! You have ultimate freedom to make the website you want!

Stop.

Too much animation distracts me from the elements of the website that really matter to you or your business (your content, your CTA, what-have-you). It can make pages frustrating to navigate and impair website performance.

And there are people who suffer from motion sensitivity that may not be able to use your website at all with too much animation. Remember, accessibility is important on the web, too.

Use Clear Fonts.

I was looking at copywriting portfolios online today, and I stumbled across one (that I won’t link to, I’m not here to start problems) that used a script type font for headings.

Why?

Folks, I know you think the script is pretty. I know you think it’s on-brand for you, especially if you’re a writer. But it’s difficult to read, and I’m probably going to pass on it and move to a website that’s easier to read. There is a wide, wide world of online content out there, and I’m not working for yours particularly unless you give me a damn good reason.

There is no excuse for making your website harder to read.

Using script fonts sparingly, such as in a logo or a header can look really classy and great, but don’t use them in the headings or body of the website content, or if you do, make sure they’re bold and clear enough to be read easily.

Pop-Ups – It’s Complicated.

Look, I’ve read a dozen articles about how well pop-ups work. I really honestly have. I have read most of them in a state of consternation.

I’m prepared to admit that in some circumstances, and in some contexts, they work on me too. I would be either a fool or a liar if I didn’t. But they’re also one of the fastest ways to get me to leave your website.

If I’m reading an article or blog post and your pop-up comes in the middle of my enjoyment of said content, I might close it and keep reading, but I’m less likely to visit your website in the future. It’s analogous to sitting in a park reading a book and then having some guy come up to you and try to sell you something. It’s distracting and disruptive and unpleasant.

It’s important to understand that as an unemployed grad student with no money, I am of course everyone’s target market.

Seriously, though, the least disruptive pop-ups are the ones that appear after I’ve reached the bottom of the page, and honestly to me that makes the most sense in terms of a customer’s sales journey.

And for God’s sake, keep it to one pop-up, please.

Use Contrast for Readability.

Maybe it’s my age, but I often struggle with readability on websites. I don’t know if you remember, but a few years ago it was really in to have medium grey text on a white background and it was nearly unreadable. It became so prevalent that I would close a browser tab out of spite whenever I encountered it.

Believe it or not, people are still doing it.

Look, it doesn’t matter how slick and well-designed your website looks if I can’t read it.

This is an accessibility issue too, there are people who are vision impaired who simply cannot wade through paragraphs of low-contrast text. And it’s both impolite and unwise to ask them to try.

In Conclusion.

There you go, my gripe post about websites. I feel like a lot of this ties into readability and site performance, which are two things that every blogger or web designer should concern themselves with. I don’t think they’re too much to ask.

Are you exhausted by blog posts about bullet journaling yet? How about Instagram posts, or YouTube videos?

Well buckle up, because I got something to say about bullet journals.

Full disclosure, I maintain a bullet journal (I will never use “BuJo” unironically because it sounds like a code for blowjobs to me) and have done so off and on for years now.

If you’ve stumbled upon this post and are wondering what a bullet journal is, it is, in short, a combination planner and journal maintained in a blank notebook. It is fully customizable, and was inspired by a system created by Ryder Carroll, featured in the video below:

Ryder says that his inspiration for creating the bullet journal system was to manage his life as a person with ADHD. As a result, it’s very useful for organizing and planning, replacing dozens of scraps of paper and post-it notes that might otherwise take over one’s desk, purse, pocket, or wallet.

A huge following sprang up surrounding the bullet journal system, and it evolved, taking on a life of its own that far outstripped Ryder’s original system.

Now, I’m not here to tell anyone what’s right or wrong, and even Ryder says there’s no wrong way to bullet journal; that’s the beauty of the system. It can be whatever the user needs it to be. It is infinitely customizable, adjustable, and modifiable. I mean, it’s a blank notebook, right?

The system that Ryder initially envisioned was a series of notes each day that could be migrated; ideas, additions to standing lists, things like that would go to what he called Collections. Tasks and appointments and events would be migrated to the days that they were to be attended or accomplished. So each day was a running list, and each day could be closed out when the items were migrated. Very helpful for ADHD and anxiety sufferers.

If you look up bullet journal or BuJo on Instagram or YouTube today, you will find people creating complicated, intricate spreads with hand lettering and artwork, trackers and systems, that really bear little resemblance to Ryder’s original system.

Initially I became enthralled with this content and put a lot of effort into creating Instagrammable spreads in my journals. I worked hard on it, particularly putting a couple of hours in at the beginning of each month to “set up” the journal. I was excited about this new project.

But after a several months of this, a problem raised its head. I wasn’t using the journal. My intricate spreads were blank, abandoned. This was for a few reasons.

It was too complicated.

The system I had pieced together was too unwieldy for me to whip out the journal and note something down. My “dailies” became nothing more than to do lists, and I tried to flip to the collections pages to make notes because the space pre-allocated for daily entries in my complicated system was not sufficient for little notes, ideas, etc. As a result, I would lose things. The ideas I was sure I would remember until I had a chance to sit down and page through the book flew out of my head before I got to my bus stop.

It was too stressful.

The pressure of creating new, fresh spreads that I could post soon shut me down completely. The worry that I would ruin something I’d spent hours creating kept me from using the spreads I had created. Then, with the trackers, they existed as a reminder of things I had failed to do, a record of my personal shame.

I started looking for answers.

Of course, I started looking within the online bullet journal community. I tried all kinds of keywords, minimalist, simple, etc. Even the “minimalist” bullet journal content was too complicated for what I needed.

Just as a note, the bullet journal community online has become intensely gendered. On the feminine side are intricate, artistic, complicated spreads. On the masculine side are bearded online media bros who celebrate the bullet journal as the ultimate tool for productivity and rationality and structure, all the while sneering at “female” bullet journal spreads. I’ve been trying hard to find content in this space that breaks out of this binary and have been frustrated at basically every turn.

So I went back to Ryder’s original system. I made a couple of tweaks, such as including monthly calendars (they help me know which dates fall on what days of the week for future planning), and I included a habit tracker, not for compliance, but for tracking mental health. And I started using the journal as Ryder originally intended; a list of notes and ideas, rather than as a fancy to do list. I also developed some personal rules for bullet journal maintenance.

My bullet journal rules.

I want to preface this by saying that I’m not telling anyone else what to do. If you find planner peace with complicated spreads, do it. These rules are for me

1. No Rulers.

A lot of people use rulers or straight-edges to set up. Hell, even Ryder does in the video above. But I really need perfection to not be a part of this process at all, so forgoing rulers helps me understand that this is a messy, spur of the moment process, and that perfection is not the goal. This helps with the anxiety I feel about using the journal.

2. No Boxes.

The heart of these complicated systems are boxes. Boxes for your days, boxes for your weeks, boxes for notes, boxes for to do lists. Boxes ended up constraining my use of the journal, editing what was important enough to include and what wasn’t, resulting again in my losing information.

Okay, I still use some boxes, for tracking things that only require a checkmark or something, but for daily pages, no boxes. I don’t care if a day takes up two pages. In fact, I would be pretty delighted if one did, because it probably means I did a lot of brain work that day.

3. Migrate at the End of the Day.

Everything goes on the daily list of notes. Everything. At the end of the day, appointments and tasks get marked off or migrated to collections, etc. That closes out my day. Nothing left un-dealt-with to keep me up at night. Everything has a plan or a place as appropriate. And it prevents me putting off writing something down until I can flip through to the right place, resulting in better capture of information.

4. No White Out.

I’m a creative worker, as a writer, and messiness is important to that process. Failure is a part of creativity, and allowing those mistakes to remain on the page allows me, perhaps counter-intuitively, to accept that. I may scribble them out and write the correction next to them, but no white out, no hiding mistakes. Only acceptance of my flawed self.

The result of following these rules is a messy, minimally decorated (I knew I would need to be able to work in my journal with just what I could carry in my purse), and honest reflection of my life, and looking back through it has made me feel good, helped me remember things, and encouraged me to consume media (books, movies, YouTube videos, articles) that I had noted down and then promptly forgot. I’ve captured more ideas, whether good or bad, than I had before. It has been a success.

And I couldn’t be happier.

“There is no innovation and creativity without failure. Period.”

-Brene Brown

I am what my therapist would call “risk averse.” It’s one of the top priorities in my personal life, becoming inured to my fear of failure. Even small failures (dinner is too salty, I dropped something down the bathroom sink drain, etc.) can throw my entire day into chaos. But the thing is, I’ve been trained to be this way. And I think a lot of us have.

Volumes have been written about the value of failure, but the authors of these pieces never seem to be the type that have to worry about not making rent because they were canned for a failure at work.

In fact, as the personal development and productivity gurus of modern work culture tell us we must fail to learn and grow, American work culture remains intensely punitive toward failure. The end result of this is that development through failure is a privilege reserved for those who are financially comfortable enough to afford it.

I cannot count the number of jobs I’ve held where I’ve lived in terror that a single mistake would result in my dismissal. Jobs that are highly specialized but low skill are particularly bad about this, because management has limited the amount of training that they need to do to hire a new employee, so workers are all interchangeable and replaceable. Low skill jobs are always in demand, so this results in situations in which management maintains records of work failures for the express purpose of being able to dismiss an employee at will. Even if you’re not subject to this kind of dismissal, it results in a culture of fear and perfectionism.

At the same time, we’re told that employers want creative workers, innovation, and people who think outside the box. The fact is, the way we handle work cultures for most employees (this means not those on Google or Amazon campuses) actively discourages creativity and innovation.

This is often (but not always) a result of firm size; the bigger a firm gets, and the more levels of hierarchy between top management and front line employees, the more layers of people to worry about failure, and the more punitively those people will behave toward those who report to them. Top management has little influence on culture at the bottom of the organizational structure, because there are too many layers of hierarchy between them and the front line employees, and the culture moving down the hierarchy changes; like a game of telephone.

The result is that creativity (and, necessarily, failure) remain a privilege for those who are the least vulnerable. Which seems really backwards to me, because it’s the employees that are the newest to an organization that are most capable of thinking outside the box, because they have the ability to view the structures and processes from the outside, being less entrenched in them. And while, yes, some new employees enter into upper management, most of them take entry-level positions. Positions that are the most vulnerable in the event of failure.

And here’s the thing; as much as our employers would like us to be perfect, failure is inevitable. It’s not if; it’s when. And work culture denies us that humanity.

This was a problem for me at my most recent job. I was working as a temporary mail clerk, and every time I made a mistake I sank into a morass of anxiety, terrified I would lose my job. This reaction was due to the way work cultures at prior jobs had impacted me; job after job in which I knew that a single mistake could easily result in termination. Grace was never a guarantee. As a result, I attempted to hide or outright lie about mistakes I’d made that I couldn’t fix on my own.

Fortunately my direct supervisor at that job wasn’t as interested in the mistake as she was in my fixing it and learning from it, and by the time I left that position she regarded me as one of the most competent to hold it. She offered grace, and the opportunity to learn and grow. And honestly, those mistakes were the things that helped me learn the most about the position, to the point that when I was training my replacement, I knew exactly what mistakes to let my trainee make, and which ones to intervene in, because the mistakes would give me an opportunity to train her further.

Certainly, if someone is not performing acceptably at their job, it’s time for intervention. Sadly, for many of these positions, it is cheaper in terms of resources (time, money, effort, reputation) to simply dismiss an employee and hire another one than to regard an error as a training opportunity.

As much as many companies claim to value their front line employees, they certainly don’t act like they do.

These kinds of dismissals carry even more risk, because a termination on one’s record can reduce the chances of them occupying future positions.

If we really cared about having capable, skilled workers in these positions, we would approach failure with a bit of grace, because failure is not just inevitable; it is how we learn, it is how we grow, and it is how we progress. Not just as people, but as organizations and as societies.

I started writing here again for a couple of reasons. One, I was paying for the domain and I knew the site would look dusty and abandoned with no new content on it. Two, I had started posting some kind of ridiculously long content on Facebook, which is really not the venue for that. Three, I was writing extensively in Word files that would then end up saved on my laptop and forgotten.

Content is my business, so why would I put in that work waste it?

Writing is important when you’re a writer. It keeps your hand in, it allows you to grow in your craft. No writing, no growth.

The more I interacted with the website, the more signs of age were visible on it. The twitter widget with no posts. Content so ancient that it embarrassed me. Outdated information, like the podcast that no longer exists. Remnants of an era in which I apparently did not believe that blog posts needed pictures.

I did feel a terrible urge to delete all that old content, but I didn’t go through with it.

I stared at the now empty social media widgets.

The more I looked at the site, the more stale it felt.

Plus, the purpose of the site is a little different now than it was a few years ago. I’m not just writing fiction now, and I have an interest in copywriting/content marketing that I can explore and exhibit. The content I directed toward readers would be different than that I would direct toward potential clients and employers.

So I embarked on a website redesign.

I’m not going to tell you the redesign is complete (it isn’t), and I don’t know if it will ever be complete, or if I will continue tweaking it until I’m old and grey.

I struggled a lot with this. There’s a lot of conflicting advice. “Keep personal and professional content separate,” some people say. “You need a touch of your personality; people want to know who you are,” others say. “You are your brand,” still others say.

In the end, I decided this is going to be, whether I want it to or not, a mix of personal and professional content. As a writer, I am painfully aware of the fact that while I’m a very good writer, I am not now nor will I ever be the best in the world. I can’t just sell writing. In fiction, we say that we are selling our voice; that all the stories have already been written, but nobody’s written it the way you can.

I removed all outdated content (except old blog posts), and removed empty social widgets in favor of icons I found less tacky. I realized that if I’m going to link to my social accounts, I needed content there as well.

This is when things started to spiral outward.

When I stopped updating  this website, I also stopped bothering with social media with the exception of my private Facebook account. It’s been years since I tweeted or instagrammed. I had already been chastised for the lack of new content on my LinkedIn by our career advisor in the MBA program. My Facebook account was the only thing I felt motivated to update, because it was the most rewarding; populated with people I already knew, full of local and international news, and it talked back to me. I got replies and delicious likes, and so many pieces have already been written about how addicting feedback can be.

Other social media accounts were never like that to me. Twitter was like tossing messages in bottles into a vast sea. LinkedIn just wasn’t, you know, fun. It was scary, like being at an office party and worrying that you’ll say the wrong thing to the wrong people. Instagram, well, most of what one sees of Instagram involves models and “influencers” and restaurant plates. And though I take photos, I had no interest in that sort of thing, and I would never fool myself into thinking that the photos I take are good.

Social marketing advice in the writer space tells us to pick the platform that we work on best and stick with that, but I wasn’t even updating my “professional” Facebook page. Facebook limits visibility of professional pages so thoroughly that even my friends didn’t get to see posts to my page, and without feedback (and precious likes), my interest in it faded.

And so I started to ask myself, what can I commit to? Can I commit to a tweet a day? A photo a day? A LinkedIn post a week? What can I do? And I started to build myself a list of internet chores.

Most of these are words, and it’s good for me to write words. It’s practice. It’s growth. It’s my job. Instagram, well, it’s good for anyone who publishes on the web to have a repository of images to choose from, and ones you’ve taken yourself are even better, because you won’t see that same free stock photo on someone else’s thumbnail.

And it occurred to me how strange it is to set up a list of social chores. I’m not going to become Instagram famous. I’m not going to amass a huge Twitter following. But if someone googles me (and they will), these old accounts will come up. With old content. That may no longer reflect who I am and what I think and believe.

And I think to myself, is this a chore that other people do? Or do they stick with a social media platform that they’re most comfortable in? Am I the weird one? And, will it start to feel more natural to maintain these other platforms the more I do it? How thoroughly do I curate? Is poor content better than no content? Will I need a piece of social media management software to handle my own stuff?

The really strange thing about social media is that it turns everyone into a marketer, whether they like it or not, whether they know it or not. We all curate. We all do, We may not realize we’re doing it, but we do. We all are trying to decide with each post what parts of us we want to advertise and which are best kept private.

And in a way, I think that’s what I find kind of exhausting about it. Decision after decision after decision, not knowing what any of the stakes are.