Taking a Chance

I used to wish I had a different name. One that sounded more suitable for a writer. Something that flowed better and had more than two syllables. Now, I'm glad my name is Toni. Toni is a great name for a writer, because it doesn't rhyme with any bad words or body parts. This occured to me the other day, because one of the writers on the paper has a name that easily sounds like bastard. This, of course, had occured to the woman who wrote a complaint about him, exclaiming that he should be fired.
Apparently, he was not the only writer under fire that day. It seemed like everyone received either a nasty email or phone call--except for the unimportant intern that is. I quietly dabbled in my work while the entire newsroom became enraged.
This has pretty much made up my mind on whether or not I want to be a writer. Last night, I promptly applied for the job of my dreams. I had ruled out living in Indy because of the crime, and the fact that I don't like merging, but I think I'll risk getting shot at the Walmart and colliding with a semi if it means I won't have to write. I've already received more feedback from this company than the last place I applied to, even though it is only an email acknowledging that they recieved my resume.
I realize, I could do something I don't want to do because it's easier, or I could take a chance and maybe get a job that I'll really like. So, we'll see what happens.