Confession: I hate setting goals. 

I know that all the smart people say that you need them and it's not like I don't have things that I want to do with my life or the next year of my life or even today. But when you follow the SMART rules for good goal-settting (Specific Measurable Attainable Realistic Timely), you end up with something that feels to me rigid and stark. Either I succeeded or failed. There's no room for "failed but gained something even better" or "attempted but realized I didn't actually care about that goal at all" or "got off to a good start but then something surprising and fabulous happened that changed everything" or "went off on a fun tangent" or even "succeeded but left with very little feeling of accomplishment."

The goal assumes that I know the end result. It leaves little room for experimentation and discovery and surprise, things that are essential to me in my creative process, but I realize now were equally important when I had a corporate day job and had to do this for myself and staff I managed. Failure to attain a goal can often be more valuable than its success, not just in a "lessons learned" kind of way, but also in keeping ourselves flexible and growing. It's good to have a destination, but the best journeys have delays and side trips and sometimes end up in unexpected places.

Yet I wrote on Facebook this morning about feeling easily derailed lately and I realize that some of this has to do with a confusion of purpose. The things I have to do to stay afloat and happy at the same time are becoming confused and so it's easy to get off-track and stuck in the mud. So maybe some articulated goals are in order. Maybe one of my goals should be to fail at least one of my goals, just to keep things interesting. 

A satirical guide to managing your time when publishing a website, assuming that you aren't someone who does this for a living:

1. Estimate the amount of time that it will take to publish your site.
2. Triple that amount.
3. Go on facebook and bitch about how long this is taking.
   
4. Take the high road and swallow your bile when your web designer friend comments that you should have hired her to do it instead.
5. Resolve to enact your revenge when said web designer friend is looking for someone to proofread her resume.
6. Get back to work, slacker.
7. Add another 17 minutes.
8. Consider calling your web designer friend.
   
9. Check your bank account.  Cry. 
10. Add 30 minutes. 
11. It's time to PUBLISH! You are a rock star who can do anything. 
12. Realize that clicking the Publish button just led you to seven more steps and you maybe can't do this at all.
13. Add anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes depending on your blood sugar level.
14. Ok, I think this is the last step.
15. No it isn't, because the site won't really go live for up to 48 hours while the whole domain name syncing thing happens. But there's nothing you can do about it now. So, yay?

The end.  Or is it?

I'm trying to redefine my relationship with the idea of networking. It's so easy for me to jump into thinking of it as something kind of icky and (as an introvert) completely exhausting. 

Also, I'm kind of terrible at it. At one point, I would have considered this a point of pride, part of my romanticized self-image as a cowgirl who doesn't need no help from nobody, an authentic independent spirit who doesn't play by the rules, etc., etc., add your own image here. Trying to make a life as an artist and freelancing as an editor to pay the rent has turned that attitude around right away. But I'm starting to realize that networking is not only necessary, it's also really very satisfying, even for an introvert like me.  Here's why:

• Every single thing that I do works better if there is someone else involved. I don't always need collaborators, but I do need other humans be present and occasionally listening to help me keep myself on track and give the work a life outside my own head. 
• Helping to connect people is really very satisfying. Seriously, it's fun to help! Especially when I'm helping more than one person at once and with very little effort on my part! Having a network means that I can sometimes be that connector when someone needs a hand. And it reminds me that it's ok for me to ask other people for help too. They usually don't mind at all.
• I know amazing people who are doing some damn cool things. Going out into the world and talking to them about what they're passionate about isn't a chore--it's a privilege! 

Listen, I'm still not great at this networking thing. I'm awkward and kind of shy in most social situations. For me, talking to strangers, and thinking of myself as someone who has something of value to offer them, will probably never come naturally to me. But I'm working on it because I'm learning to see it as more than a necessary evil.