Bright Future

Have you ever microwaved a 60-watt lightbulb? It glows like a mother-fucker.

It's probably not a very smart thing, this microwaving of lightbulbs- (or shiny-side up CDs for that matter) but it's incredibly bright visually, the bulb turns into a laser show- so many colors...and that crazy excitement of wondering how long is too long to nuke a lightbulb is one of the purest, sweetest adrenaline rushes you can find in your kitchen...

Anyway, don't go off and zap your bulbs- I was just using the nuked bulb as a way of expressing how bright and unruly the future can be.

I'm sort of at an impasse at work- they haven't given me the money or insurance I was promised and what's worse, this is the second time they have done this. They did it to me the last time I worked for them. It took me three months longer than it should have to get my insurance in 2005, during my first stint at the Firm.

I allowed it to happen. I went backwards and going backwards is never a good idea for me.

Last year, shortly before Thanksgiving, I quit my current job and started my 'dream job', which turned out to be a nightmare and lasted three days.
By Christmas I was nearly broke and by 2007 I was only a few months from eviction, so I went back to my old job, which is now my current job again.

It's like going back to an old lover after a long separation- in their absence you start remembering the good things...so you make that call...and before long you suddenly remember why breaking up was a good idea in the first place.
Only now you have to go through it all over again.

Well, my recent dating experiences have been about as successful as my last job hunt- either settling for going backwards or settling for nothing at all. Sounds bleak, but it's just because I didn't meet anyone who really, truly got me going, who turned me on. Same with the jobs. No excitement, just a paycheck.

No sparks.
A drained relationship or a dead-end job.
But that doesn't mean anything about the future.
The future might explode.

It's a longshot, but I took a chance and applied for what really would be my dream job. It's in radio, NPR to be precise, but I don't want to count my fetal chickens until they are frankfurters* , so I'll be oblique with the details- but it would involve moving very far away.

I put a lot of time and thought into it.

Am I ready to pack up and leave everything behind just to follow my dreams?

Yes. Hell yes.

I am somewhat content here, but that's out of complacency, not satisfaction. I love my radio, but it doesn't pay- and I hate my job , and it barely pays...I have no kids...no band...no girlfriend...just my own fear keeps me here. If I had a guaranteed radio job with decent pay, a good environment and full insurance, I'd move almost anywhere and the rest will work itself out.

I thought this out and decided to apply.

It's a very specialized position and I just happen to have the variegated and somewhat arcane skills required- and the offer was sent directly to our station's volunteer manager from their station's manager...did she know anyone interested? (Indie radio is a small world) She Fwd the email, which I got this morning.

Well, I am interested. I am fascinated. Radio has literally saved my life and a career in public broadcasting really appeals to me.
A lot.
It's not glamorous or high-paying or anything, but it's what I want to do.

So I sent a nice cover letter , a list of utterly awesome, yet true ,things about me and my resume to them.

Nothing may come of it, but I wouldn't know unless I tried.

I tried. Now I wait.

Wish me luck. I need it.





*Yes, that is what chicken franks are made with.