Show Me the Funny

Whew…THAT’S over. It went pretty well, from my perspective. Traffic was a breeze so I got there early and my friend who works there let me watch an episode of the show so I would know what I was talking about. The show is actually pretty cute, in a Katherine McPhee sort of way. (Speaking of which, don’t you think that Paris looked like Mandy Moore last night? Eerie.) The meeting with the boss seemed to be successful, although I’m not sure I convinced him that I am as great as I was telling him that I am.

Note: this is a writing job I am up for, and I totally mixed tenses in my last post. Would you hire me?

Second note: in reality television, “writing” is called “story editing” or “story producing” because if you really were a “writer” they would have to “pay you more” and give you “benefits” and you would have to belong to a “union,” namely the “WGA” which is currently trying to get “story editors, story producers, and editors” to be treated as “writers.”

So. During the interview I felt as I had feared I would: a sense of entitlement. As in, of course you should hire me because with my experience this job would be cake. Also I felt extreme greed when the guy mentioned how much the job pays without even asking me what my rate is. Cha-CHING. That more than anything else makes me want the gig. Like I’ve said before, I can be bought.

But at what price? I’d get a weekly rate, the experience of working on a network show (well, not one of the big three, but not cable anyway), proximity to my friends, and a grown-up life. I would have to give up a humongous chunk of time, hours spent sitting in terrible traffic, four months of my child’s life and time with my husband, a few hundred dollars a week to a babysitter, my son’s love to a babysitter, summer, and most likely my sanity. At the end of it all I’d be sitting on a giant pile of cash. Maybe I’d go on and do other jobs that are kinder to my family life. It could be a good thing.

As usual I am getting way ahead of myself. I am supposed to check in next week to get the verdict. It could be one giant anticlimax. Is that even a word? For now I will focus on the 2 parties and 4 houseguests I have in my immediate future. That’s what really matters.

Aren’t you glad you asked?

And for the record, I considered never posting again so I could always have “35 comments” be at the top of my page.