So I'm brooding and grouchy. Not sure why. Perhaps the BS of a job, any job really, is getting old. The attempts to stab people in the face with information...how can we package this different, better? Does the general public know where Georgia is? We don't want to spoil this Olympic swimming medal haze to actually think about a real crisis.
So there is that. There is the sad fact that I'm impatient. Have been and always will be. Being peppered with questions from people twice my age about things I can only profess to have a minimal knowledge is getting old. I'm getting old, I've realized. I don't care to "expand my portfolio" in an industry that seems to be flailing and bailing water. But I will expand because I love this profession and don't want to be seen as unyielding or unsure of how to progress in an ever-changing world. I tell my boss, "I'll do what you want me to do," but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
How did I get here, I don't know. But the general malaise, is becoming just that, a sickness that I'm quite sick of. I keep thinking of ways to be excited about a professional I've spent most of life pursuing. Maybe it is investing in new technologies and finding new ways to tell stories, different ways. Ways that I must be in control of and be willing to give 12-hours of my time to each day. There's the rub. That is the real root of all this. I'm not lazy, but I'm not interested in investing my free time to a skill, when I'm nearly a third of the way through my life span and I want to invest in things outside of work. There has to be a balance I'm sure, but what I've learned is that I don't know how to balance the time I put into my craft -- something I love.
So there is that. Just ranting. Thank you for reading, all three of you. :)
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