I organise websites for people. Smooth Stuff is the name.
I set them up, usually a content management system but occasionally a static HTML site, host and maintain them, manage clients’ newsletters, catalogues, selling of services online etc.
I enjoy this work. It’s a personally satisfying experience, I have come to know so much about my clients and their business, I feel myself a part of it. I am a part of it.
Many years back, when my brother started up his small import business, I spent 12 months in a tiny office with an even tinier storeroom behind. “Don’t you feel isolated?” my mother asked. She couldn’t understand why I liked it so much. I still like working on my own.
I also write content for various online and offline publications. This, of course, means many hours sitting on my own, happily tap-tapping on my keyboard and gazing into space. Now that the children have left I’m free to do just what I want to do.
There are many different views of Heaven, from stately halls to 50 miles of elbow room, but my vision is smaller. Heaven is sitting at my desk fingers clicking furiously, watched intently by the fat kookaburra on the fence. Grabbing some tuna and cheese and strolling the few steps to the Merri Creek to sit looking over the water and thanking what gods may be for notebooks and wireless. Paradise.