Journalism or puppies

Ok, this is decision week. In about a week, this blog will likely take a turn from the desperate ramblings of a 3o-something bisexual who is not happy in the city where he lives to a blog about the excitement of taking a job in central Oregon for a newspaper that pays crap.

I've given this new job a chance. While I have morsels of happiness and hectic, challenging work - it's still what Dennis Leary calls a "chocolate chip cookie" - it's a brief moment of satisfaction in an otherwise unfulfilling day. However, I'm still not too sure if taking a job where the most exciting things I'll be covering are city council meetings and knitting clubs is the stuff worthy of sacrificing a job that pays enough for rent and possibly a car payment if such a need may arise.

Still, central Oregon is amazingly pretty.

But, if I stay in Omaha, there's the distinct possibility - no fact - that I would get a dog. Namely, this dog you see in the photo. And honestly, how the hell can you say "no" to that?

Unless, of course, if journalism is in your DNA and you can't scratch it out, regardless of the poverty that will become of such a profession. Not even the allure of a cute companion such as this may be enough to make me finally put away my attempt at becoming a journalist even in light of the fact that there's going to be a few thousand new journalism grads who will scrape this job up in a heartbeat, regardless of its meager wage in the heart of one of the most expensive places to live in the U.S.


So, what is it, readers?

Journalism or puppies?