Wanted: A Crack Social Media Assistant Who Knows the Lingo—aka the nearest teenager.

360_saggy_pants_0926So my birthday was on July 4th. Yep, I limped into a year older with nary a whimper and it was a great day. I worked, went to a movie with the hubs, noshed at a downtown eatery, then ate ice cream while watching the fireworks from my deck. I have a killer view of the entire valley–yay me and my porch! But the one thing I wanted—read needed, read really, really needed—wrapped up in a big bow was a Social Media Assistant who is able to digitally broadcast everything I’m thinking—or planning to think—onto all key cyber landmarks at any time 24/7, capture all communications and respond with wit and sincerity (but never temerity) to all comments directed in my direction. Breathe.

I need this because the time earmarked for this element of my marketing strategy is chewing up my writing time. And my sleeping time. My gym time (cough) and of course my shoe-shopping time. I’ve also resorted to cutting my own hair—again–and now can only leave the house if it’s on fire (the house, not the hair). I know this need for SMA (Social Media Assistance, please try to keep up) comes as a shock since it’s only been 2 months since I last blogged and my loyal readers (thanks again Mom and Dad) know I’ll get to it eventually. But the truth is my FB page is buried in dust and I have a love-hate relationship with Twitter—mostly hate. Google + is stalking me. Linkers at LinkedIn are inviting me to, ya know, link in. I have good intentions about Pinterest but I’m far too easily side-tracked by all the crafty things you can do with a bobbi pin. I troll Goodreads but end up commenting on books I’ve read instead of engaging the nice readers who have graced DOBG with 5 stars. Same with Amazon. Tumbler? No comment. Reddit, StumbleUpon? Are you kidding? I’m desperate for an expert—preferably one with nothing to do. I’ll take an acne-chinned, attitudinal in sagging britches as long as he has blisters on his texting thumbs. Heck I’ll even feed him.

She sighs. Darn! I’ve burned through my allotted blogging time so I must now run. I have no choice but to head to the skate-park in search of the aforementioned candidate to organize my soon to be stellar cyber-life. Oh, and to buy a hat. LOL. (Sorry, I don’t even know what that means.)