One week ago, as I was heading to my car after work, a new thought popped into my head: I don't want to write for the paper.
It caught me completely by surprise. There was no emotion attached to it; it was as cool and detached as if it had come from somewhere else. As if I merely heard it in my head, rather than actually thinking it.
I found it interesting, if momentarily perplexing. What did it mean? Not that I want to stop writing for the Post-Gazette (although I had earnestly sought to take the buyout offer that expired on Nov. 8th). No, it was something different, which became clear when a second clause followed the first.
I don't want to write for the paper - I want to write for the web.
I had spent a good chunk of time that day on Twitter - which meant, of course, that I had clicked on a bunch of links and even responded to a couple of tweets, and I might have even shot something into the Twitterverse myself, and had reminded myself yet again that I could spend all day online, reading, writing, linking and responding.
A newspaper seems like such an uninteresting way to present information. So flat.
The next day, I met with Cindi Lash, who did leave the PG to become a regional editor for AOL's Patch.com. She described her new work as "exhilirating." Twice.
Makes me want to really pump up Homewood Nation.
And tonight it brings me back here, as I say to myself, I'm a blogger. I'm also a - Twitterer? Tweeter? Twit? Not so much a Facebooker, but I could indeed read, blog and tweet all day.
But not all night. At least, not all of this night.
Till next time.