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Friday, March 16, 2012

RUNNING FOR A JOB AS A WRITER--PART THREE

 In my final posting on whether I’d run for a job as a writer if that was required, I’ll look at my attributes, assets, and the dirty little secrets that might be revealed in the course of a campaign.



First, assets and attributes.

# 1  I’m honest.

Well, I’m mostly honest. Okay, I’m honest most of the time with most people. But, let’s face it, there are times when honesty just won’t cut it. For example, when someone asks, “Does this make me look fat?” or when the police officer who pulled me over asks, “Do you know you were going 53 in a 25 zone?”

# 2  If I make a promise, I keep it.

Actually, if I make a promise I try to keep it. Most of the time. Generally the promises I break are to myself: I won’t eat at my desk, I’ll clean up my office once a week, I’ll use those hand weights five days a week, I’ll rake the lawn tomorrow.

# 3  I balance my budget.

I’m all good on this one. I’ve never bounced a check (except once when a bank teller hit the wrong keys and accidentally wired money out of my account). And, while I’m not as frugal as some of my friends, I’m not a shopaholic—unless you count spending sprees at Goodwill. And, while we’re on that subject . . .

# 4  The trappings of wealth don’t mean much to me.

That doesn’t mean I couldn’t be bought, just that the stuff of barter might not be cash or vacation homes but rather donations to charities that are close to my heart.

# 5  I’m organized.

Fortunately, there’s wiggle room there. Everyone has a different definition of organization and a different method of achieving it. I know where my stuff is. Most of the time.

# 6  I’m disciplined.

Fortunately (again) there’s wiggle room here, too. Compared to a member of an elite military unit, not so much. Compared to most two-year-old kids, I’m the personification of self-control.

# 7 I don’t require a huge staff.

Okay, that’s mostly because I’m not good at delegating, but I’m still counting it as an asset.

# 8  I don’t mind public speaking.

Well, I don’t mind it as much as I mind a root canal or a mammogram. It all depends on the group, the venue, and the topic.

# 9 Multitasking is practically my middle name.

While I’ve been writing this I’ve also been checking my e-mail, talking to my aunt, making a grocery list, and eating chocolate-covered cranberries.

# 10  I have cute dogs.

They’re ready 24/7 for photo ops and a chance to show off their tricks in exchange for dog cookies. Cute dogs might distract reporters and constituents from the tough questions.

# 11 My husband is photogenic.

Mike has a great smile and is ready at all times to talk about golf and deflect those aforementioned tough questions.


Now, let’s get to what we’ve all been waiting for, my dirty little secrets. Prepare to be disappointed. Most of these aren’t secrets and they aren’t dirty—at least not by today’s standards.

# 1  I have no tact and plenty of opinions.

My friends have standing orders to step on my toes or tell me to shut up when I run off at the mouth.

# 2  I hate meetings and “process.”

If being a writer involves serving on committees, then forget it.

# 3  Compromise doesn’t come easily . . .

. . . unless that was my idea in the first place.

# 4  I came of age during the 60s.

I’m sure some things happened back then that I wouldn’t want to hear about now. My hope is that if I can’t remember, no one else can either.

But, since it would be the job of reporters to question my qualifications, reveal my secrets, and dig up any dirt they could, I’m delighted that I don’t have to run for this job, that I can forget about campaigning, appoint myself, and get on with the writing.