It’s time. I need a gig again. Bills don’t pay themselves.
Feel free to email me if you’ve got thoughts/suggestions. I know I should know what I want to be when I grow up, but in the wake of TV journalism becoming a shell of its former self, I’m finding myself perpetually searching for a new professional crush.
It’s like a wise friend recently explained:
TV: I like you but I need you to have more…um….pep.
Me: But I love you and I know my stuff. I’m passionate about our relationship.
TV: Yeah, um…that’s great. But I don’t need you to be smart. Or dedicated. Or a hard worker. I need you to be peppy. Can you give me peppy?
Me: You know what? I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s not you. It’s me. You’re happy being fluffy. You don’t want to change. And that’s ok. I am sure you will find someone perfect for you. But I need more.
TV: Cool. I’m glad you…ooooh…is that Paris Hilton?