A Writer Should Write

I'm a writer by trade - I actually get paid to write. Fairly well in fact. And there's dental.  Imagine this: a person will call me or show up at my office door, looking for  words.  I'll conjure up a few bon mots suitable for the occasion and this person will take them gratefully, glad there's an honest-to-goodness writer on the payroll, on call for any and all wordsmithing emergencies.  And that's pretty much what I do Monday to Friday...

But I'm lucky; jobs like mine are very few and very far between.  People who write really good, thoughtful, creative and beautiful words often don't get paid at all; they do it for love or because they are compelled.   I need to acknowledge and respect that, and wear this awesome, fortunate mantle a little more proudly: take my calling a little more seriously.

So starting today, I'm writing something every day.  And no, a 140 character Tweet doesn't count, despite the rigour and discipline required to communicate thoughts and feelings in such small medium - the Tweet is really the haiku of the 21st century.  But I'm still not counting it.

Why I'm not dressing up for Halloween this year

I used to always dress up for Halloween at work, but things weren't great around the office last fall, and I really hesitated about showing up in costume. In the end I threw caution to the wind and wore my Lt. Uhura outfit (it's pretty awesome and the skirt is scandalously short). A whole bunch of people joked about how the people in the red tunics were always the ones who didn't make it back from missions. 


Less than two weeks later I got laid off. 


The thought of having worn that costume, and the things that people had said still sting. Of course they were all just kidding around, and I'm sure most of them were oblivious to the brewing storm, but the memory of those comments just added to the humiliation of losing my job and left me feeling incredibly exposed. And I will never forget that the VP who canned me won the staff costume contest that day, for an admittedly brilliant pumpkin-head get-up, just confirming what a classless ass he was when he happily accepted the prize instead of declining it in favour of someone from the rank-and-file.

This year I have a new job that I really like. And I'm really happy here. Really, really happy. But I don't want to leave myself vulnerable in that way again, at least not in the workplace. 


So no work costume for me.  However, in the spirit of the season, I will accept any and all candy my coworkers offer, and politely eat it.  All vulnerability aside, it would simply be rude not to.  Noblesse oblige, right?

The old marketing dept. back in the day