I once considered myself a writer. When asked what I did for a living, I had a nice, tidy response: “I am a writer.” Short, straightforward and simple. After a few years, my job changed. I still wrote, but my title became magazine editor. I liked this title. I felt as though I had accomplished something at the fairly young age of 25. Apparently I did a bang-up job as magazine editor too because after a few years my title changed again. I became communications director. I still put pen to paper on occasion and I still produced a monthly magazine. However, I began spending more time hiring and firing and worrying about countless other tasks that involved spreadsheets and reports and long meetings where little was accomplished.

That brings us to today. I recently received an impressive seven-word vice president title. I suspect the promotion will bring with it even more spreadsheets, reports and long meetings. And even less writing.

So, with that, I begin my quest to become a writer again—not for the title and certainly not for the $9.75 an hour I made when I started. This time it’s all about finding the right words, sharing my neurotic observations and getting some use out of this awesome domain I’ve been sitting on for the past six months. Let’s see where it takes me.