One of my posts was freshly pressed on Tuesday, and I was happier than a puppy with two tails. There wasn’t anything that could steal the lollipops and sunshine from my day. I was sliding down rainbows and hugging strangers. I didn’t really understand what it meant to be freshly pressed, and what I did know was due to my blogging friend Brad over at www.blockader.wordpress.com who was freshly pressed a couple of weeks ago and got a bazillion hits on his blog.
For others who may not know, each day wordpress chooses about 11 blogs to feature and puts them on their homepage. So for about 24 hours, it’s like your blog is on the billboard of the world-wide web. Which makes for pretty good advertising.
My blog was also the featured post on the postaday challenge page.
The number of page views on my site for the day skyrocketed. Granted, I didn’t get nearly as many as other freshly pressed bloggers, but I’m not complaining. I got many subscribers, many wonderful comments, and lots of look-sees, and found lots of great blogs to read for myself.
The whole day I just kept repeating how happy I was. So very happy. Happy, happy, happy.
I was obsessed. I woke up in the night and snuck my phone under the covers to check my blog stats. I was like the boy who’s supposed to be sleeping, but instead is looking at a dirty magazine with a flash light under the covers. The whole time the thought of my husband waking up and catching me made it even more riskier. Yes, I live on the edge. I’m a wild one.
I relished the entire day, and never thought once about the ‘morrow.
And then the sun rose and a new day dawned.
And WordPress chose 10 different blogs to be freshly pressed.
And just like that, in the blinking of an eye, I was replaced.
Thrown out with yesterday’s slop.
As exhilirating as it was to watch my little bloggie towers soar, it wasn’t enjoyable to watch them shrink back to their measly beginnings.
I became blue.
My moment of basking was over.
My fifteen minutes of fame.
My mountain top experience.
It was wonderful while it lasted.
But last, it did not.
I’m thankful for the experience. I don’t know why my post on an antiquated green canister was chosen, or how it was chosen. But the feeling I experienced for the recognition of a piece of my heart-felt writing is indescribable.
And I’m convinced, now even more than ever, that I want to write.
I want to keep going, keep writing, even on hard days, long days, empty days.
I want to write words that touch people, that stir their emotion, that floods their memories.
I want to write for you.
And you,
and you,
and you.
Thanks for reading.
Angel Wheeler 
