Stone Grinding Time

So I start a new job tomorrow. A real job, in a big building with parking and security guards and office supplies. I'm not going to say where the job is, because judging by some of the comments, a few of you have the makings of a stalker. I will say that it's in radio. My title is "Writer." After years of wanting to be a writer, it's kind of cool to officially have the title. I get to join the Writer's Guild and everything. It's part time for now, but since it's a union gig it pays well. I've never been in a union before; I wonder if I'll become really sympathetic to the plight of labor and start bribing officials. Union gigs in radio are few and far between these days if you're not on-air talent, and I've always been envious of those that had them. When I was a board-op at KGO in San Francisco, the full timers were all union. They would tell tales of outrageous salaries and 8 weeks a year vacation, and I'd sit there all wide-eyed and dream of the day when I, too, could sit complacently on my ass without fear of getting fired.

The job is in news, so not only do I get to be a smug union member, I also get to be an elite journalist and look down my nose at "shock jocks." On my road trip, there were surprisingly few moments of bursting clarity about what I wanted to do with my life, but I did come to the conclusion that if I was going to get back into radio, I'd rather do news than talk. I still cling to the romanticized notion that journalists are people we are supposed to trust and respect, that the fourth estate is there to keep the powerful in check and safeguard our liberties. I've long looked up to guys like Edward R. Murrow, Walter Cronkite, Bob Edwards, and Geraldo Rivera - men you could trust alone in a room with your naked sister. They seem like the kind of guys who are the proverbial "smartest men in the room" - the kind of person you want to sit next to at a dinner party. Not that I go to that many dinner parties. Maybe now that I'm in news I'll get to go to more dinner parties.

It's been a little over two months since I got back from my trek across the United States, and thank god I can be done with the debasing process of looking for a job. In the beginning, you only apply to the cream-of-the-crop positions. You even get close to a couple of them. You have a great interview, and like a starry eyed teenage girl you start to imagine your life together with Company X. But while Company X may have liked the handjob you gave them on the first date, some other slut went all the way, and now Company X won't return you calls. Time goes on, and your bank account gets smaller and smaller. Soon you're sending in your resume to anything remotely connected to your field. Radio Shack has the word radio in the name of the company - I could work there. It's like an actress trying to make it Hollywood. You have all the best intentions, but after months of no work you've talked yourself into the thinking porn is actually acting and you're doing 10 person gang bangs for a bag of coke.

I like having a job. I like structure, and the satisfaction that comes with waking up and showering. I've been quite bored these past two months, and I find that the less I have to do, the less I'll actually do. I'm more motivated when there's structure in my life. I need assignments and deadlines. Plus I find being broke a demotivating factor. It's easier to actually get out in the world and do things when you can afford to buy the gas to get you there.

So this next chapter in my life starts tomorrow morning at 7:30am. Ugh. I should probably sleep all day today since I have to get up so early tomorrow...