Aging has taken so much from me: my patience, my joy, my passion, my hopeful anticipation of tomorrow. Are you depressed yet? Well, wait for it: Medium.com, a blogging platform I’m trying to crack, has taken my claps away. What do I mean by this? Hang on and keep reading and I will get you there.

I like to write. I have an MA in English/Writing from the University of New Hampshire that I earned in 1990. In 2010 I earned a MFA in “creative non-fiction” writing from a greater Boston liberal arts college. I’ve had personal “creative” essays (think short memoirs, not those essays you were forced to write in school) published, as well as numerous blog entries. I had one embarrassing little humorous chapbook published in 2014. I’d like to say I’ve spent several years building upon that meager publishing record working on a full-length book. What I’ve think Excel Spreadsheets, cubicles and capitalistic goals. Hell, I don’t even have a cubicle anymore. I sit at a 4-foot table separated from the worker next to me by a small window of glass. I think Manifestos have been written about similar conditions…

My writing has stalled, but my retirement savings have grown. It’s what I wanted — not to be a starving “artist.” My adult life has been a quest to save enough money so I don’t have to worry about money, but now, on the cusp of 63-years old, my heart is starting to shrivel into an angry little ball of resentment.

“Stop bothering me, everyone! Stop bothering me with your interruptions, with your extra last-minute work assignments, let me finish this one fucking task!” My mood at work has really deteriorated. I don’t say it quite like that, but you know, I do say it. The older I get, the less I care about getting fired.

Because, you see, I was “supposed to be a writer,” instead of a busy corporate bee.

I want to re-spark the writer. Light a fire under her wordy little ass, let her know she still has things to say that people want to read. That there is, indeed, hope for her future as a writer and she can get excited about THAT. She can write in retirement, which is a mere (and painful) 2 year away. A little, tiny ray of hope warms her oft angry little heart…

Writers, generally speaking, want to know their words are being read. They want attention, some affirmation that not only have they written something worth reading, but the readers think it’s good. Writing, for me, is part self-confidence and part self-doubt, both of them seeking applause. I thought I’d gotten the applause…

…and then, Medium.com took my claps away.

Medium.com is a community of writers who are trying to earn money from their writing. Other writers are trying to at least build an audience to satisfy that writerly need “to be read.” Medium allows the reader to comment on a blog post and to click claps if they like the post. Blog posts are being read and appreciated. Damn, that sounds like heaven to me! So, I signed up. My last post on the platform, “D is for Dominance” had 10 claps! Medium is a platform where people have thousands of claps on their posts, sometimes 10s of thousands. I was thrilled with 10. Ten people liked my writing!!!!

One evening I checked on the stats and those 10 claps were gone. My heart dropped into my writerly, self-doubting shoes. Where did they go? Where was my affirmation that I can write, and that people think my writing is good? I used Medium.com’s help feature to learn that there had been some kind of data glitch; claps, comments, and pay, would be restored to order (or taken away?) It’s been weeks and my claps have yet to be restored. I have a feeling 10 people did not read and clap for my story, that it was just part of a data glitch. We get data glitches at work all the time.

Two years till retirement.

I ask: What has been taken away from you? Or if you’d like: What have you gained or restored?