Job Opportunity Dilemma: Love Location or Love Cash. WWYD?

My happiest two months at my final paper were my last two months. I know I was leaving, they didn't, until two weeks before I pulled the plug. Still did all my assignments, worked hard, wrote a daily blog, took on some extra layout shits, etc., but at that point IDNGAF anymore.

 

What the hell were you eating?

 

First weekend since dropping the bomb.

An odd four days at work, to be sure. The job isn’t stressful anymore. I still GAF but now I don’t feel like I’ll be stressing out over whenever they’re going to let me go. I’ve got a more stable place awaiting me — a place that has shown it really wants me. (We’ll see how long that lasts!)

Work did the Friday News Dump of my departure, by email. A classy note, one that I’m surprised by.

 

I’m closing in on 30 years in the newspaper business, and the number of public acknowledgments when someone left my various shops over the years can be counted on one hand. With fingers left over.

One of the many ways broadcast journalism is different from print.

Anyway, glad you got a classier than expected announcement, ex.

 

I’ve been “shown the door” at my last three stations. Each time carrying a box with my boss escorting me out and taking my key card.

Never fired but each boss was mad that I was leaving.

 

It's good to always keep this workplace mantra in mind:

These are not your friends. These are your co-workers.

There are exceptions, of course. But choose carefully, and trust your radar.

 

Whoops. Copy editing was never my strongpoint. And autocorrect is your enema.

 

Agreed 100 percent.

But when you’re in the foxhole with folks five days a week, lines get blurred.

I think more so in this field than others. Especially if you’re a copy editor whose only “buddies” just got done working the 5-1 shift with you. Maybe other shift work, too. You’re released from the dungeon while everyone else is asleep.

 

Excellent point about the 5 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. aspect of journalism work (at least before the last decade or so, when newspapers were still printed on site).

Many times I remember wanting to go out after work and most of the smaller towns I worked in already had rolled up the sidewalks.

It’s why late night BS sessions happened so often in newsrooms.

 

For more years than I can count on two hands, I worked the 5-1:30 shift. Driving through my hometown seeing all the stores and gas stations closed and nobody awake except the occasional police car in hiding hoping to pull someone over (or maybe taking a nap themselves) was sometimes cool, frequently eerie and occasionally depressing.

 

Good luck in Memphis!

Oh wait, did I miss something?