My morning routine doesn’t vary much. As I’ve mentioned before I
have a tendency towards OCD like behaviour.
I’m normally at work well before my actual start time, simply
because I’ve never really figured out how to arrive any later. This gives me a
few moments to check up on my blog and hit “publish” on my latest offering.
I take a quick look-see at the statistic pages. Figure out who is
reading what, how people ended up on my blog, which bots are trawling it ,what search
terms people have used and how many people were actually looking for Russian
porn at the time*.
Most of my blog posts are written as batches, I’ll do a flight and
even if I don’t write the posts that
instant, I’ll jot down 4 or 5 thoughts, each of which will form the basis for a
blog post.
So flying once a week pretty much keeps me in blog posts, one a
day, for the entire week.
Or at least it used to.
I’m finding less and less to blog about from each flight because,
quite frankly, each flight has less and less to distinguish it from the last. I’m
not making stupidly massive mistakes that I can tell you about. There are no “quantum
leaps” of learning anymore. No one wants to hear about you holding your
altitude to a tolerance of 50ft rather than 100ft. It isn’t actually that interesting.
So I guess one of two things is going to happen here; either I
carry on blogging everyday but the posts are less about my flying achievements and
maybe more about my everyday life, or I stop blogging as often.
Not sure which way it’s going to go at the moment. I enjoy the
writing, so much so that come August when I get some time of work, I’m finally
going to start work on that book I’ve been promising myself. The other
consideration is that for various reasons my readership (the proper readership,
not the porn hunters) has risen 4 fold in the last few months.
I feel I’m short changing them a little.
*Seriously a large percentage of my daily hits are from Russian
bots, most of which lead back to porn sites (yes I clicked on one once, by
accident. Yes I did need mind bleach afterwards). I have no idea how I came to
their attention and I don’t know how to feel about it; insulted? Disgusted? Flattered?
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