When I started my podcast, I tried to be as realistic with myself as possible. I knew that I had the technical skills necessary to make it happen, and I knew that I had at least a passable ability to ask people questions and then listen politely to their responses. For three episodes I was able to pull this off, and then an unforeseen technical issue created a cascade of issues that has led me to writing this blog post. 

I won't bury the lede any deeper: This Is Not My Job will continue to exist, though not in its current format. I had initially intended it to be a show about creatives and how they balance their art with their day jobs; it's a pretty niche concept, but it was well received by those who were kind enough to listen to my elevator pitch for the show. I'm happy with how it turned out, and assuming I can overcome the issues I'm currently facing with the remaining interviews I have in the can, I will put them out for folks to listen to. With that said, I will be foregoing the interview format, along with the original core concept of the show. There are several reasons for this:

• I'm just not all that comfortable interviewing people. I love talking to people, but I feel an overwhelming sense of pressure to ask THE BEST AND MOST THOUGHTFUL QUESTIONS EVER. 
• In order to ask those amazing questions, I need to do research. I do not like to do research. Asking myself "Hey Carl, do you like doing research?" was more research than I care to do, if I'm being honest.
• In order to interview people, said people need to agree to be on the show. I've had a few people say no (which is totally cool), but I've had way more people just not respond to my emails/DMs. (Which is decidedly less cool, but I acknowledge that I am not entitled to anyone's time or their response.) If no one wants to be on my interview-based podcast, I don't have a podcast.

With all that said, I do enjoy making a podcast, just not an interview-based podcast, as it turns out. What I do like is hanging out with friends and being funny. I know that this is uncharted territory for a podcast, but dammit...this is a trail that I am well-suited to blaze! So, at some point I will get the skeleton of a format together, and at that time I will let everyone know and start dropping those episodes. I will be keeping the title of the show, mostly because I like it, but also because it's still applicable. (Also: the logo and theme song kick all kinds of ass.)

If you're sad to hear that I'm ditching the format, I am truly sorry. As much as I would like to keep it going, the idea of doing so fills me with anxiety and not excitement. I have enough to be anxious about, so I don't want to add more to the mix.

I have nothing but the deepest and most profound appreciation for my listeners, as well as the guests who have been kind enough to share their time with me. I want to keep making a show that you can tell I love to make, and this format change will allow me to do so. Thank you for listening, and thank you for reading this post. 

So, what do you do for a living?

Like a lot of people, I dread being asked that question. As soon as I hear it directed at me, I immediately want to shut down or abruptly change the subject. What should be a harmless conversation starter is actually something far more sinister, and we've all just come to accept it as part of our lives. That seemingly innocuous question is the first step in a nebulous algorithm that helps people determine your worth as it relates to the amount of money that you make. (Or don't make.) I spent the better part of my adult life underpaid, but now I have a Good Job. It affords me the ability to provide for my family in a way that I never dreamed would be possible, but I do not feel any different as a person. I am still the same tattooed goofball that I was three years ago, just with a different job.

Somewhere along the line I developed the habit of asking people "What do you do?" When they inevitably start to hem and haw about their job I rescue them and say "I didn't ask you where you worked...I asked you what you do." It's part of my personal mission to redefine how folks around me view their contributions to the world, and in some small way, it's how I came up with the idea for my podcast. By day, I am a Senior Regional Account Manager for a specialty pharmacy; by night I am:

• a podcaster
• a writer
• an editor
• an actor
• a musician

I would be over the moon if one or more of the things listed above provided me with the same income as my day job, but the cruel reality of the world is this: the arts just don't pay all that great. Everyone who engages in some manner of creative pursuit knows the struggle, but despite that shared truth, many still believe the myth of the Struggling Artist. It's a romantic notion that gained a foothold in society in the late 1800's and hasn't abated, but in 2020 it has never been less true. Creative fields of every stripe are full of people who work one or more "day jobs" in order to pay the bills and afford them the opportunity to pursue their art. For these people, the question of what they do for a living cannot be answered succinctly, and therein lies the origin story for my new podcast, This Is Not My Job.

With my podcast, my goal is to speak to a variety of creatives about how they balance the realities of living in a world that simultaneously places art and artists on a pedestal and then immediately undervalues said art and artists. (Ask your artist friend about working for "exposure" if you want to see someone eye-roll themselves to death.) The title is intended to be a somewhat clever turn of phrase that skewers the notion of what we do for "work," and what we create when we're off the clock. Does the joke land? Not for me to say. What I can say is that the title of the show is not intended to say that the art my guests create is not their job. That distinction falls solely to the creators, and I'll let them explain it to you in their own words.

This Is Not My Job will be launching in February 2021. Find it wherever you listen to podcasts.