Here we are, at the snow-capped summit of NaBloPoMountain. Exhilirating, isn't it? Can you feel the giddy? I feel the giddy. Although it might just be the thin air up here. And all that pure oxygen.
Yes, I changed the metaphor from a marathon to a mountain climb. But it's appropriate, don't you think?
- For one, we all climbed Everest because it was there, and now it's time to strip off the crampons, tip your sherpa, and savor the view.
- For two, climbing Everest isn't even that big a deal anymore. In the mere 53 years since Hillary first reached its peak, Everest has become so crowded with climbers and litter and frozen poo balls that it is now considered the "world's highest junkyard." Awesome, mankind! A majestic peak, millions of years in the making, and in no time flat we turn it into a toilet.
- For three, this blopathon has been transformative, and I have an entirely new approach to and appreciation for what leaps from my fingertips each night.
So much has happened this month. So many changes ahead, so many new mountains to climb. So much more wireless to poach, now that our new neighbor has finally gotten her act in gear. (W00t!) And so many new readers, who sent my daily traffic up by about a third. Thank you all for enduring this with me. And special thanks to Eden, the mother of this precious brainchild.
So what happens now? Do we all heave a collective sigh and power down for the weekend? What if no one blogged tomorrow? Would our computer screens buckle inward from the content vacuum? Would hundreds of thousands of lurkers suddenly have nothing to do but ... be productive?
It's a monstrous thought.