Dawn Is Me

I’m having blogging withdrawal.

Well, my sites are all moved now. The personal sites are up and running, painlessly transferred.

The business sites are more or less transferred, too … found a few links I need to fix, that sort of thing. The only problem is that the DNS for my main business site seems to be taking longer than all the rest to make the change over. Meanwhile, the domain name isn’t pointing anywhere at all because my former host has pulled the plug.

Sigh.

It’s giving me some extra time to install a whole bunch of nifty new features for my subscribers, though, which makes me happy. (Hey, anybody got a wireless access device? I installed a plugin that is supposed to provide WAP content, only I don’t have a gizmo to test it. Taking volunteers here …)

The worst part about it is that, without DNS resolution, I’m not only having political blogging withdrawal, I’m not getting any email from my primary email address! Gak!

Okay, I’m going to go figure out a way to get my hands to stop shaking …

I’M DONE!!!

This morning, I published the final issue of The MicroEnterprise Journal for 2005. From now until next year, no more deadlines or struggling to conduct interviews while bedlam erupts behind me or any of that other wonderful stuff that goes into publishing my newsletter.

Of course, none of this means that I’m actually taking any time off. Over the next three weeks, I’m going to

~ format my hard drive and install a Linux operating system, ridding myself of detestable Windoze and its evil offspring

~ back up my archives onto CD and clean my hard drives of assorted drek

~ finish compositing the novel I’ll be publishing under my Brighid’s Fire Books imprint next June

~ clean my house from top to bottom

~ work on locating half a dozen microbusiness owners around the country to work with me to launch the first six state-specific editions of the Journal, to expand my coverage and grow my readership

~ change all the copyright dates on all my web sites

~ finish refunding all the entry fees from the defunct fiction contest I ran last year and prepare to launch the 2006 contest (hoping for more entries this time)

~ persuade everybody who owes me money to pay me

~ prepare to close my books for 2005

~ unearth the top of my desk.

Hmmm … did I leave anything out?

I know, it sounds awful, but it’s very nice to be able to work on all this stuff without having to interrupt myself to chase down articles for my newsletter every week.

And, of course, there’s also all the holiday stuff that will be happening and that is conspicuously missing from that list. I’m almost finished my shopping, which my children don’t seem to be aware of — they’re still revising their lists on a daily basis. Poor babies.

I’m in a weird space where nobody can seem to touch me. They miss me, I know that. I’ve been in this place before, far away from everything, and I always come back eventually. It’s not a joyful place but it’s a peaceful one, and I need that almost more than I need the joy.

I like this time of year. As crazy as the holidays usually are, I use this time to recharge my batteries.

And I like beginnings. In January, we get to put sucky 2005 to bed and start over again. That appeals to me.

Have you noticed that I’m having a sort of Simon and Garfunkel evening?

I did something I’ve been needing to do for years.

I sat down and actually planned out my business cash flow for 2006.

That doesn’t sound like a big deal to you, but this fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants style of business management is designed to give you ulcers.

And, like most small business owners, my cash flow was getting to be a really painful affair because I wasn’t really managing it like I needed to. I was just making it up as I went along. It’s a wonder I’m still in business.

Crunching the numbers also makes me feel good, believe it or not. It helps me to realize that I’m doing better than it seems like I am as I struggle to pay my business’ bills and wonder how long it’s going to be before my customers have money again.

And then there’s that old business saying: you get what you measure. Maybe, if I get into the habit of measuring the money, I’ll wind up with some.

Sounds like a plan.