Everytime I say, everytime I seriously consider, leaving journalism, I get a signal from the Big Guy to stay put.
Tonight, it came at the tail-end of a nearly 12-hour shift, running from assignment to assignment, trying to square my weekly education page stories and my candidate profiles away. I was at a candidate forum, trying to get quotes from audience members when I ran into one guy who shook my hand warmly and told me he recognized my name and intially thought I was the news assistant. He asked me, as an aside where I’d gotten my degree and I said I’d gone to Cal State Fullerton. He said he went to Medill, meaning, Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism. Turns out he’d spent 30 years at NBC News as a producer and was now doing all sorts of volunteer work during his retirement. I was like, man, I want to be where you are. He said, “don’t worry, you will be.”
Ugh. I don’t know anymore what’s going to happen to me. I had all these visions of jumping from paper to paper when I started in journalism – I thought I was going to live all over the country, work for all these big papers and then go to grad school and get a cushy professor’s job, or something. Someone tell me where I’m going next, please?