I'll See Your Bunion and Raise You Two Periods and a Gallbladder!

Is this what it means to be in your late 40's? If so, I want my Mommy. Actually no, I'm mad at her right now--the Gallbladder issue could be her fault--er her genes. I suddenly have a plethora of lovely health issues to choose from, all looming, just waiting their turn to be cut out, opened up or dried up. All the yoga in the world can't solve this. But health insurance can.

But does it mean you have to keep a job you hate because of the awesomeness of free xrays? I have been a contract TV producer for many, many years. (and no--not the "Friends" kinda TV, the "Fix my Crap Yard" kinda TV) I say that so you won't think my blog is me making up stories for my next sitcom. Suddenly my life IS a sitcom.

I moved from SF to Sac exactly five years ago--for a morning show gig--oh--and the guy. But the early morning hours had me scaring myself at 3am every morning when I looked in the mirror. And while the relationship was baking nicely--I needed a new gig. In true Lynnie fashion--I was offered another great TV job -- right here in lovely Sacramento. Two executive producer jobs in Sacramento? Seriously. Arnold is here--but he didn't bring the pretty TV with him from Hollywood? So I left the morning show and moved on to a really fun job producing your favorite -- wait for it--cable TV landscape makeover shows.

I often wondered if Wilco Boy--oops--I mean Mr. PP--was interested in me because I worked in TV. I mean really. When I met him--I just returned from Japan shooting a National Geographic Channel program. (More shit you can't make up--sending a producer who hates flying to cover a sinking airport? Whuck?) So I was kinda flying high, basking in self confidence. They always say, when you're not looking...Right? Fast forward 2.5 years--the fun TV job and the fun guy went away. And I was left with a choice. Now I know what you're saying. Get out. Leave. Run back to the City, home and family. Too much loss. Abort! Abort! Of course I didn't.

Because lo and behold--yes--I got offered a third executive producer gig in Sacramento. Okay--not so lucky in love, but lucky in labor? I used to think so. Until this job. And to think--I coulda taken something back home working on a star celebrity face cream infomercial and avoided it all. But no! "We could get back together?!!" Blech. I can't go into it now. But I will soon. This 3rd Sacto TV job changed me. Maybe more than the breakup did. I worked for that old school network that still airs Lawrence Welk...and after a year it didn't end well. (for me or Lawrence) In fact, Ernie and Bert would be pissed if they found out how badly I was treated.

So back to the question of sticking with a job you don't love or feel passionate about--for health insurance. Would you? At my age--tough choice. When do you say--Okay, I kinda achieved my dreams--maybe I give in/up and act my age? 401K. Disability insurance. And yes, free xrays! We'll see. After they look at my gallbladder on Monday.