Friday Nite Lite

Work sucks.

I don't mean the actual work. I big basket of kittens like my job. Pay me to write? Pay me to edit? Pay me AND be smart and nice AND point me towards a fridge full of FREE Diet Pepsi?

We've all been places where the air was tangy with fear, loathing and hungover salespeople. This ain't that. I didn't know companies that were fun and exciting existed after 2000. If they start making Monica Lewinsky jokes, I will get back in the time machine tout suite.

So, it's good. However, that traditional New Job Terror has infected most corners of my life. I worry if I am doing an okay job and what I should be doing and should not be doing and if the Diet Pepsi runs out. The NJT (New Job Terror) isn't leaving me much time to tell stories. That is how work sucks. Also, I have to put on pants.

I can take a moment to share with you one of my pressing concerns:

Tina Fey.

She's fabulously funny, smart, and comes across as a little too self-depreciating (but still able to pull her shit together enough to be hugely successful, so maybe she's not actually so self-loathing? Maybe she's doing a thing so people don't hate her success? In any case, well-played, Tina. Well-played). And cool. Who here does not want to have her baby? Show of hands?

But, I fear we are quickly reaching Fey Saturation Level Orange. "30 Rock" plus "Baby Mama" plus the covers of Xghtouynfmfnfty Magazine all may cause the public to overdose on her like so many Saturday night Beer/Ice Cream/Frito binges. And also? Amy Poehler is coming up fast on her heels. Watch your back, Tina, and go back under the radar a little, is all I'm saying.

If, the next time I swing by BK for a grease-and-beef-broth flavored, watered down fountain drink, I see an ad for a "Baby Mama" action figure (now with pregnancy test and Fossil bag accessories!), I'm taking my Alec Baldwin and going home.