I’m back in San Francisco contemplating the next move. South? North? East? Obviously west is not an option. I suppose I could move out to Ocean Beach. You can’t get anymore west of there.

All of this is really dependent on what I decide I want to do with myself. The book on editing video is nearly in the can. So there’s a desire to “go on tour” to promote it. Which amounts to a bunch of Apple Store visits, user group demos, classroom takeovers and a podcast (I had to teach this werp the word podcast, hmph) or three. Then again. I may want to stay in the groove pecking away at the followup books. Traveling and writing could work too.

Another nagging little brain bug is promoting the “job” thing again. Which has some up advantages. Like getting up before 8 to be somewhere by the corp crusade time of around 9. The thought makes me quake. Why? Meetings. I loath meetings. Ugh. There is nothing worse. Nothing gets done. I have a creepy sense of nothing happened when leaving them. You can’t nap during them. Doodling is forbidden. Yea. Maybe I could convince myself that a once in a while a meeting in trade for a paycheck is good. Then again. I really do hate meetings.

For a while I thought of going on the road to record a TV show. Wait. I shouldn’t call it TV. The concept of TV is really over now. Podcasts (stupid werp didn’t know that word either) are the way of the future. It’s my content. Not subjected to FCC rulez. Not subjected to a networks policies. Mine, mine I tell you. Mine. If you don’t like something about my show. Lick balls I’ll tell you. Part of me doesn’t have the ego to want to get in front of a camera spewing my knowledge to 3 CCDs. I did it for MacBreak though. Although you wouldn’t know it from the current website incarnation.

Blogging could be a career as well. Some people are making money doing it. Although it’s hard to know who or how much. But how much is a lot? You don’t have to make much to make it right? Silly RWS made 8 bucks selling t-shirts in the last six months. And that website doesn’t even exist anymore. Imagine what little bit of effort could make.

So this is the quandary. What does my ego want? Because it doesn’t want a lot of things. I’ve really become content with nothing. I’d solicit advice from the world but um, comments are turned off because of the bots that spam them. Call the voicebot (206) 666 5338 or send email if you want. You’ve got that address.