Eight

9 March 2008

Eight years is a long time.

For me, it's almost a quarter of my life - and an eventful quarter, at that.

What started as a vent for all my frustrations with my health has changed and moved and yes, even stagnated, as life and stuff has overtaken me - for both good and for bad.

I've missed it, too. I've missed the joy of stringing words together and putting them out there, for people to read, respond (or not), of (on a good day) making people laugh, or think, or even think I'm an idiot.

Eight years is a long time.

Eight years ago, I sat at my desk, in Scotland, in the middle of the night, and hit the publish button on my first blogger post.

Seven years ago, I was still in Scotland, but doing what I'd wanted to do for a long time - working as a web designer.

Six years ago, I was in London, six months in, starting my career at RNIB and adjusting to the bright lights and the big city, and waiting for that terrible phone call that came just a few weeks later.

Five years ago, I'd moved flat, got used to London, and was on the verge of changing job, still within RNIB, but moving into web accessibility, an unspoken goal for several years.

Four years ago, as an important relationship ended, with all the pain and angst that follows, I found reserves of strength I didn't know I had, and a new relationship that opened my heart and mind.

Three years ago, I'd moved on, changed jobs again (this time, promotion to being a Web Accessibility Consultant) and I thought that life was good.

Two years ago, I saw my (soon to be) niece for the first time, and my health fell apart for a bit, along with my relationship and my sanity.

Last year, I was in transit to Austin, Texas, to check off two ambitions at once - a visit to the US, and attendance at the SXSW Interactive conference. I left behind my new love, in our new (rented) flat, and returned inspired, and with a new sense of purpose.

This year, we've just signed the lease on the flat for another year, and we have a plan. A plan for the future. A plan which involves scary grown-up things, like buying a house, and much, much more. It's the scariest plan I've ever even contemplated, but the time for being scared is over. As someone far clever than I wrote, once - the avalanche has started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote.

Grand Plan, Step 1 - Resign from RNIB. Done.
Step 2 - who knows for sure, we all know what happens to plans...

...but won't you stick around and find out with me?

Left comments

Bagsy knit the wedding frock ;-)

xxx

SUE
9 March 2008

Looking forward to step 2 ...!

Mary-Lou
10 March 2008

"The avalanche has started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote."

Wise creature that Kosh.

Nice to see you happy. Long may it continue.

Tom Reynolds
10 March 2008

Yes, I think you can be pretty sure that I'll still be reading. Not necessarily daily (sometimes not even weekly) but definitely still be reading.

And good luck with all the future plans - having done similar over the last couple of years (as you know) I hope it all runs smoothly.

Besides, you know where I tend to be if you want a vent/email/idea-bounce.

Lyle
10 March 2008

You resigned from the RNIB? Still doing the web accessibility thing? It's where all the cool kids hang out.

Jim
11 March 2008

Not only sticking around, but waiting with baited breath for the avalanche!

K
11 March 2008

Yup :-)

rr
12 March 2008

Whoops. I forgot that I'd turned comments to moderated, which wouldn't have been a problem if MovableType hadn't decided to stop emailing me about comments to moderate.

Thanks for the kind words, all, and watch this space :)

Ann
13 March 2008

I'll do you a deal...

You be my Bridesmaid, and I'll be yours...

That HFBB we know and love has had his plans since the year dot, I'm very happy that in some small way, I've given you both each other to live them out with.

Oh, and yes, You did read that first bit right, T has proposed, and I said yes. LOTS. ;-) I suppose I should go 'blog about that myself really, shouldn't I?

Nikki
14 March 2008

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pixeldiva is...

... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.

... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.

... contactable via email.

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