Hey, all. If you follow my updates on Twitter or Facebook, you already know the news. Yesterday was my last day at
CiN Weekly.
(It was actually everybody's last day at
CiN Weekly. It was even
CiN Weekly's last day at
CiN Weekly. The publication will continue under the name Metromix, a change we knew about for at least a month. We just thought we'd be around to work on it.)
This was my first job out of college, and I spent six great years working with some wonderful people. I'm going to miss seeing them every day. (Amber and I joked that we'd have to get webcams and videoconference every day so we could still talk to each other.)
It's funny. I have never in my life truly had to look for a real, adult job. I got the
CiN Weekly gig at the end of an internship at the
Enquirer, which I got by just bringing a bunch of clips in to the news editor. (I got the impression people who actually wanted to be copy editors were few and far between.) I'm lucky to have a huge support network of family and friends who know how this dance goes. My inbox has had a steady stream of good thoughts and even a few job postings.
So buck up, guys! I'm gonna be just fine! Especially if people keep buying me drinks, like they did last night.
On second thought, nobody buy me any more drinks. I was
hurting this morning.
More later, including (possibly) how social media turned our pity party at Arthur's into what was really an incredible night.
(Photo by
Gina.)
